The Moon Fox felt it and thrashed, and I held it down with a hand of stitched-on dead meat, with the weight of a body that did not feel pain, and I poured Storm Bearer's current along the link itself, down the leash, into the fox, until the heaven-beast understood the only thing I had come to teach it.
A Heavenly Beast was a proud creature, but it could only be proud to those who could feel the weight of that pride, not me, and so I showed it what its new reality would be.
It had a new holder. The holder did not feel, did not tire, did not grieve, did not bargain. The holder would not be broken, would know no fear, and would not, like Vrakth, ever once long for it, pity it, or treat the leash as anything but a leash.
