Aleksander sat on the hard floor of the auction house, which had turned out to be some sort of converted manor. He was inside a cage, like some kind of rabid animal. His back was up against the corner of the cage, resting his head back into the relative comfort of silver bars at a ninety degree angle. He could transform with some effort so as to stay warm, but the traders wanted the wealthy vampires to be able to see their human forms so as to assess their 'good looks'. He was one of the unlucky ones; he was fair skinned, handsome and had a full head of hair. He didn't care to think about the kinds of abuse that he would have to look forward to in this new stage of his life. He didn't care at all, in fact. He was preoccupied. He felt a pit of shame in his stomache that he could not ignore, no matter how hard he tried. Every time he so much as blinked he would catch a glimpse of his village, the flames rising as he was taken slowly further and further away from it, as his friends, family, and his lover died. It had been a month since he was taken, but still every night his mind became a theatre for revisiting that day. When he was awake he wanted nothing but to be asleep once again, but when he was asleep he lamented for not being awake. He had more than once wondered whether all of this had not been some terrible dream, but that was wishful thinking. He moved his right hand up to cover his face as he felt welling in his eyes and rubbed furiously away a tear that escaped. Even crying was off limits in the auction house, if he couldn't keep a straight face the pain would come again.

He removed his hand from his face and clenched his jaw to keep a neutral expression, then looked up as the smooth voice addressed him. He tried his best to make it look like he had been rubbing away sleep from his eyes as opposed to tears. Speaking to him was a confident-looking, undeniably very attractive female vampire that appeared to be about his own age. He was un-aware of the conversion rate: eighteen, one-thousand-eight-hundred? It wasn't as if he had been educated on the vampire race as he was being carted over. He was filled with trepidation as he looked into the Woman's almost golden eyes. He remembered a human who had occupied a cell very near to his, the young man had spoken non-stop, telling and re-telling stories of Vampire women, of women that would appear polite and to be of good intentions, but would turn out to be the most sadistic of the lot, quickly killing their slaves and having more than enough money for a thousand replacements. Soon after he had been purchased by one of these women. The expression on the man's face as she lead him away was enough to make one sick. This woman was cool and confident, and the nervous mumblings of the man bounced around inside his head. Well, this was it, it seemed. Only minutes earlier news had spread to this very auction house of the destruction of another auction house on the other side of the city by humans. No such luck for him, it seemed. If only he had been brought to that other auction house he might be out on the streets right now, running free once again instead of inside this damned cage, trapped.

Would I like out? He thought. She had no idea how much he wanted out, but he didn't want out so as to immediately be taken to an eerie mansion and drained dry. He wanted out with the humans. But, that was a pipe dream. Ultimately then, he guessed that if it came down to a comparison between her and some of the other people who had been eyeing him...She did have a look to her, maybe she wasn't entirely malevolent? The irony was not lost on him. Impulsively he nodded to the affirmative, but he couldn't bring himself to say it to her. He couldn't lie, and his throat was choked. The possibility of escape had felt so close when the runner had entered and shouted of the fires and of the murders. What if she turned out to be a rebel? He nearly found that funny. She was clearly a vampire, his desperate mind was just trying to scrape for possible happy outcomes, to try and remain optimistic regardless of the hopeless situation. Finally he swallowed his pride and nodded again. "I want out." Was what he said. He did at least have a somewhat better chance while he was with her. At least in the area between leaving his cage and reaching her home, he may have an opporunity for escape. If it came, he'd damn well hope to succeed, because pain would surely come if he didn't.

Aleksander gagged again, moving his hands up to his mouth and coughing painfully into them. Then he blinked rapidly, looking blankly at the woman while massaging his sore throat. He was afraid to respond to her, only seconds ago that weird collar had sort of obligated him to her, but she had removed it under her own volition. Gingerly he replied: "No, mistress." He remembered how he had been told to speak to vampires. Aleksander was bruised, sore and had been poked with silver multiple times, he was in an at least moderate amount of pain, but he lied for his mistress' convenience. 'Never inconvenience your master' had been another rule. "It's been...A little less than two days mistress, but food needed to be spared for a slave that had been reserved, it's no problem." He dearly hoped that he was being adequately polite. The woman's apparent concern was a little confusing to him, he didn't know what to say to her. What is the proper etiquette for introducing oneself to ones owner?

Aleksander cautiously took the items from her, placing the salve on the cushion next to him while taking the food. "Thank you, lady Shina." He said politely, smiling his well practiced facade. 'Always be polite', was another one. He took a small, moderated bite of the meat, swallowing quickly so as to not delay her conversation. He was absolutely famished, but again, courtesy applied. "My name is Aleksander, but you are welcome to call me whatever you wish. As you know, I am a lycan." He still had not worked out why Vampires would want to buy lycans. They could only be more troublesome than humans, and he was fairly sure their blood tasted the same. Personality quirks perhaps? He took another bite of the meat, careful not to reveal his own slightly lengthened canines to the female vampire. There was no rule about that, but he had guessed that perhaps vampires did not like to see competition in 'fang length'.