Axael squirmed in the slimy prison, his skin tingling already with the juices that he would sooner or later become a part of. The smell was horrible, and he felt naseau creeping up into his very being, bile building in his throat. He felt the patting and hated Triske all the more for doing this.<br/><br/>He had done nothing wrong! He had apologized and tried to reason with the dragon and now, he was dying, becoming, as Triske put it, 'Part of his bulk', though Axael would not agree that he was the greatest creature in the world.<br/><br/>And so, settling into the idea that he was going to die, he began to relax, and as the dragon rubbed him again, it somehow felt different, almost comforting...and yet horribly frightening all the time. For a thought crossed his mind; if this dragon were the sort that could reform him, he almost felt as though he wouldn't mind being eaten again. But that was nonsense!