"What a prize we have here..." His deep, rich voice rumbled in your ears, hood removed from your head as light flooded your vision, momentarily blinding you. A far cry from the forest you called home, taken prisoner by bothersome guards and transported like cargo right into his Lordships' mansion. Long, black locks framed his handsome face like dark inked curtains, the manifestation of the night sky himself.

"Aren't you a pretty thing?"