Once again, the two were tied up and alone together. This time, rather than in a dusty cavern, they were in the fresh breeze of outside, surrounded by tall flowing, yellow barley and cattails and the fresh scent of grass. If their situation had been any less dire, the two would have admired the bright scenery and thought it to be beautiful. Now, however, the breeze felt annoying and bothersome; and the waving barely comical, as if it were waving goodbye.

That is one thing that Afore was not expecting: Castimun Tribe was beautiful, with its rolling fields waving in the cool wind, and its tall trees with light from the sun glowing upon their unfurling leaves. Even to Castimun Tribe's huts and dens, which were built from miraculously beautiful pelts and hides that gleamed or shined in the day and would be illuminated beautifully by the moon at night. It was true, then, that Castimun Tribe was far more advanced than most other tribes. Their beauty and adeptness with construction, tools, and cleanliness shown it well. Afore was even impressed by the strapped muzzle he wore. It was of the strongest, finest, and cleanest leather, stretchy but unbreakable.

Laika must have not shared his admiration, for her brows were furrowed and her lips upturned in a frustrated snarl. She was furious, her hair bristling and her shoulders raised.

She shook her head exasperatedly, and her silken ears batted side to side. Her straps jingled slightly as they shook from clasps. And that was another thing- a bit of stone or perhaps steel beading reinforced the collars and muzzles they both wore. Again, Afore was greatly impressed. The Stone Age, despite the canines' advancement on Anertha, had not yet occurred; and this working with hard materials and minerals was certainly a sign of an advanced civilisation.

Laika glared at him, "Why are you so calm? Why are you so okay with all of this?"

"What?" He felt his hackles raise, his ears flip back against his head. A bead of nervous wet rolled from his flat, open tongue. The embarassed heat within him was unbearable. He had to ask himself: why was he okay? He didn't feel uncomfortable whatsoever, except for his embarrassment for being put on the spot.

"You just seem so calm." She sighed, shaking her head again, "I guess you're a wolf. You're just brave like that, aren't you?"

"Oh," Afore chuckled dryly, "I guess so." His grey muddled tail swished lightly in the grass, rustling. It was rounded and pointed at the end, so precise and full and feral.

The time went by slowly and with much anxiety. The sky's blue faded to dusk, to vibrant pink and then purple hues. Soon, the moon glared magnificently overhead, and stars twinkled against the navy sky. The air was lightly chilled, but not so bad for the wolf. In fact, he quite liked the temperature.

It wasn't long after dark that several dogs arrived, weaving through the tall grass. Of them was the female Kangal, and several black lab-type or pitbull-type male, all dark in colour, blending in with the night. The Kangal was particularly devilish with her amused smirk as she unbound a nervous Afore and Laika from their post, and guided them by leashes back through the brush and into the busy girth of Castimun Tribe. For being so late at night, it was certainly quite boisterous and busy, there in the middle of the tribe. Canines danced, sang, loudly barked and talked and laughed, chased and brawled for fun. It was festival, jolly even. The air was filled with something playful and yet Afore and Laika felt otherwise. Rather, they felt something sinister.

The two canines were tugged along by their wrapped snouts with relentless force, grumbling all the way while their captors laughed. Afore realised as he and Laika begrudgingly neared the centre of the town that Castimun Tribe did have an interest in theatrics— just not in the way he'd considered before. Their captors led them to a large arena, one that Afore had seen on his way in, composed of a wooded stage— a dirt-bowl style arena fenced in with a perimeter wooded fencing, and several posts in the middle for tying— and a cleared area surrounding it for seating of other domestic canines. Afore could smell the dried blood from past events before he could see it smudged in the dust beneath his feet.

Several domestic canines dragged along a large contraption that Afore didn't recognise; it was, of course, made of wood with leather straps and stone buckles, and quite advanced. It seemed to be two strong but short dark wood posts with leather straps tangled between them. The canines pulled it through the arena's entrance and set it up in the centre of the stage. It was a stand, made to hold a dog in place, with two small posts connected to straps which tied around the dog, keeping them there.

Afore was uneasy, nearly trembling with anticipation as they forced him into the arena with snaps at his haunches. Laika was alongside him, cowering with her head low, spine arched, and tail tucked. She was terrified, and reeked of the scent of it.

Then, in the moonlight, the sleek darkness of The Baron arrived. He looked more Doberman-like in the dark, where his strong, elegant, and slender silhouette was outlined nicely. He had a strong chest, long legs, and a powerful expression. The gems around his neck gleamed brightly.

Already, dozens of dozens of domestic canines had begun to find seats surrounding the arena. Chatter was loud.

The Baron addressed his tribe, "Dear Castimun," and at once, all chatter came to a halt, and a deathly silence filled the town, giving The Baron's words a chilling and memorable echo. "Tonight is the night you've all been waiting for. Tonight, we have The Wolf, this rigid, feral beast right here, to beck and call at our whim!" The crowd let out a dispersal of cheers and whoops, and quieted again as The Baron continued, "We have the power of a feral creature- untameable- within our very grasp now. The Veal Tribe will do anything to get their precious commodity back. And we will use that to our strong advantage!"

Again, cheers, then followed silence.

He chuckled, his smirk profound and tall ears forward, "We will use him to strengthen the tribe while he is here... But I do not need strengthening! Tonight, I will show a display of power so great, that even The Mighty Wolf will bow to my paws! None can compare to me, nor to the strength and prowess of Castimun Tribe!"

The crowd cheered valiantly in an exploding roar of sound, and suddenly, by two black pit bull terriers, Afore was being pushed further to the centre of the dusty, moonlit arena, leaving Laika behind pathetically.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the two were separated. Using a special-edged cutting stone, one of the terriers cut that thick rope between them, and Afore could feel his heart break, although he wasn't sure why— this is what they wanted, wasn't it? Just like that, and this damned rope was cut. Just like that. He couldn't quite believe it.

He was dragged away, unable to mourn. Laika cried out for him. The dust in the arena was orange usually, but under the moonlight, it looked blue or grey. Afore struggled against, pushing away, but the terriers were strong and held him back, threatening him with deep, mighty growls. Afore begrudgingly obeyed, being dragged along by the wrapped snout and throat to the stand that stood centre stage. With strong force, the domestic terriers pulled him into it; one leg, then the other, then his body. He was strapped into it, buckled in place, leather wraps tied around his hips and his neck, hooking him to the ground through the posts they attached to. He was stuck, immobile, in a stacked or standing position.

But the worse was yet to come.