In the dark, hidden underground, time lost meaning. The smells and cold clung to the stone floors and walls.
He spat again, but no matter he always tasted blood and flesh.
Growls, whimpers, broken by the clanging of chains and cell doors; his fellows taken to the arena.
The roar of cheers, of triumph and defeat rising, his heart beat fast, excitement shuddered through his body. He would fight and win again. For him.
He closed his eyes and traced his brand. Through the haze of pain, their first memory: the look and smell of his desire, his first pet.