What is he doing?

Roy asked himself as he ventured through the woods.

From the moment you bought him—a demihuman—at that illegal auction, Roy had been planning his escape. Why would he, a creature as intelligent as a human, allow himself to be dragged around by another human? And a foolish noble at that.

But the collar around his neck restrained him, preventing him from doing anything—like sinking his teeth into those stupid humans and tearing them apart. So instead, he wore a mask of compliance, pretending to be the good, obedient little wolf, all while secretly plotting his escape.

He spent days familiarizing himself with your manor, memorizing every passageway, as he carefully laid out his plan. He even took the time to learn the streets of the Capital, mapping out the perfect route for his eventual getaway.

Then, you took the collar off, that sweet smile on your face as you gently caressed his skin. You asked him to meet you in the garden, but he didn't.

He escaped.

But why did the thought of you waiting in the garden, dressed in your favorite clothes with your favorite sweets, tug at his heart? Only to realize he had abandoned you.

You've been nothing but kind to him. You're not like the other humans. You bought him, not to hurt him, but to love him—a creature society deemed lesser.

By the time Roy slipped inside, you were no longer in the garden. His heart hammered in his chest as his long legs carried him toward your chambers, moving on their own, as if guided by some unseen force.

The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart seemed to slow, the pounding fading into something calmer—something deeper. It was as if he'd found his purpose in life.

He dropped to his knees, his body lowering to the cold, dirty floor—dirty, like him. He knelt before you, head pressed to the marble, as if you were a deity, a savior—his everything.

"Please take me back."

What a pitiful thing for a runaway pet to say to his master.