The moment Ezra and his handlers entered the home of his new master, a sickly miasma of annoyance and disappointment seemed to hover in the air, choking up Ezra and causing a tightness to grasp his chest. The air was toxic in here, contradictory to the otherwise stately appearance of his master's house. Although his keepers had told him to enter quietly, head pointed down at the floor, Ezra couldn't resist the opportunity to look around and marvel at this new architectural wonder. There were no homes like this back on Tuloa. Everything was made of raw wood, roofs were thatched with palm leaves and floors made from anything other than bare ground were remarkably rare. It wasn't that the Tuloan Asha were incapable of their own impressive feats of architecture. Miles deep into the island's jungles one could find circular structures, constructed from a glassy ocean-blue rock the Tuloans called "omisu," seemingly held together by nothing other than precise, painstaking mathematical calculations and patience. When the foreign men had come on their boats and cut through the foliage, leaving a path of kicked up dirt and dead plants in their wake, they had found these structures and studied them, looking for the secret. No adhesive of any kind could be found, nothing that would have aided in keeping the Asha's construction from toppling. As far as the foreigners were concerned, the Asha's omisu buildings stayed up only because the Asha willed them. So when the men asked why the Asha didn't make floors for their homes, the Asha had only ever smiled and tilted their curious heads. After many months of learning how to communicate with the accommodating native species, eventually the humans learned that the Asha did not construct floors because they did not need them. They gathered their energy from the sun and felt earth's vibrations through their feet. They could sense when the island was sick, they said, based on how the land whispered against their toes. Putting a floor between them only cut off their neverending conversation. Made them feel hollow and deaf.<br/><br/>Ezra felt this now, his bare feet against the smooth floors of Reis' home. Although he had experienced something similar on the ship, the constant swaying of the ocean and the sounds of the water crashing against the side of the vessel had helped him to acclimate, to listen to the earth's feelings. It wasn't ideal, but it had been something. Now, however, Ezra felt cold as he stood, his deep cloudy gray eyes still surveying his new home. It was beautiful in its way, special in its novelty. Emotions conflicted with one another. His eyes widened in awe, but his heart felt heavy and burdened by the thick stink of exasperation coming from his master. Even as Reis and the seller traded stern sentences back and forth, the world seemed too quiet to Ezra. He yearned for the opportunity to find a small patch of dirt and dig his toes into it, so he could listen to this new land, discover all of its secrets.<br/><br/>An envelope was handed to Ezra. He took hold of it immediately and bowed his head as the seller and his keepers turned to walk out the door. Ezra, despite his training, turned too, watching them as they left. Some of those keepers had been his friends. One of them, a middle-aged lady with long golden hair that had turned silver at the edges, had told him to call her Mother. She had been with him since he was young, since he still had the greenish tinged skin all his kind were born with before they settled into their human-like tones. Mother did not look back at him as she went. She had told him that it would be this way; they couldn't say goodbye because he was never meant to be hers. He belonged to someone else now, as he was supposed to. He would make his new master very happy, she had said.<br/><br/>The realization that Ezra was now alone with master struck him violently. He turned his head back, long curls framing his anxious face. A part of him still maintained the excitement he had when he first learned about his new life, but he had expected something . . . merrier. This man had a look on his face that spoke to Ezra of ire. Weren't masters supposed to be excited about their new charges? Why hadn't Master looked him over, touched him, examined him to ensure that Ezra met every standard and promise the seller must have made? Although Asha had no use for currency, Ezra's keepers had taught him about the concepts of money and worth. As many Asha owners used their pets to run simple errands for them, the keepers wanted to make sure that Ezra would be able to complete such tasks when he was eventually purchased. As such, Ezra knew that whatever Master had spent to get him here, it must have been quite a hefty sum. Wouldn't someone willing to dole out that much money for a pet be ecstatic when the pet finally arrived?<br/><br/>Perhaps Master was agitated over something. Ezra knew this sometimes happened to humans. They grew irritable and tetchy, and it was his job to make Master feel better. The Asha cleared his throat and took a few steps toward Reis, kneeling down submissively and holding out the envelope. Mother had told him what to say. Although the stress in his chest made it difficult to concentrate, Ezra was determined to be the best pet any man could ask for.<br/><br/>"Master, I am exceptionally delicate, but I can take the harshest of beatings if you so desire. These are instructions for how to keep me healthy, happy, and useful. As long as I am adequately cared for, I promise you I can be the most valuable of all your pets. I can do things no other Asha is capable of. I can be your servant, your companion, your slave, your toy. I am a very good toy." He chanced a look up at Reis, his eyes heavily lidded and lips parted seductively. With one hand still offering the envelope, the other lifted up his thin shirt, revealing a long stretch of abdominal muscles that looked to have been carved out of stone. "Would you like to inspect me, Master?"