((Shorter posts for speed RP reasons))
Tiraan rolled onto his side, the slick stone beneath him cooling his body. This is the floor he slept on, ate on... and the only thing that made it bearable was that he could stay in kuhna form. Even if the stone was uncomfortable, and the food given to him was subpar, he could never stand up for himself. Master always did keep an eye on him, or came down to talk to him about running errands or doing any sort of studies. When those books were brought to him, he always choose ones on true crime or genetics. Before he had been captured and sold on the market, he was aspiring to be a scientist, and now it seemed as though the master wanted to bring that up again.
He wished someone better had bought him, preferably one who would bring him into a nice home and treat him with respect--like a human--but he got stuck with some doctor with a screw loose or two. He didn't know what he was working on, but what snippets he did hear were 'dead' and 'animate'. Had he been looking into the forbidden art of necromancy now? Why? Wasn't master like Frankenstein already?