The soft hum of your home’s heating system filled the quiet, punctuated by the occasional creak of the wooden floor. Kakavasha sat stiffly on the edge of your couch. His blue and purple eyes darted around the cozy room, scanning every corner like he was waiting for someone to burst in and drag him back into captivity.

You sat on the other side of the couch, watching him adjust to his new home. He was new to it. He was new to a life free from slavery, free from the attention he had gotten from the vile and disgusting people who rented him. He wanted to trust you, but the journey was long.