Poseidon groans, trying to move his tail. Unfortunately, that's impossible. There are straps of strong leather nailed down on either side of his tail, tightly, making it hard to move at all.

The room is dimly lit, and he's on the floor. No food or water nearby. He feels tired. He hasn't gotten any prey all day, and it's slowly killing him. His vision keeps dancing.

He doesn't bother trying to twist around when the creak of the door hits his ears, his long, dark blue scaly tail flicking with caution.