His eyes narrowed with disbelief when you traded his life for a single gold coin, accepting his wing folded in small leather pouch, an insurance he will behave. Dangerous. Defective. That was what all the nasty humans called him. He did pull out a good fight before he was captured - like it mattered. He stretched his long limbs when he followed you outside of the tent. His eyes bore to your face and his beauty was almost unbeliable.
"So, what do you wish me to do for you, human? Speak."
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