"Certainly not. They're really quite peaceful, when unprovoked." Braxiatel set his pace to that of a stroll as he navigated the Mansionhouse's corridors. It had taken him a month to get used to his freedom of movement, his freedom from surveillance and intimidation. It had taken him less than a minute to once again act like he was in control, like he was always in control. He only hoped that Benny could soon feel comfortable at home again.

Braxiatel guided Benny down the Mansionhouse steps. The weather was beautiful, on Braxiatel's command. Over the green pastures, large bulls with hooves and mouths of bronze grazed, apparently at ease. There was no sign of the breath of fire they could wipe out their enemies with. Braxiatel wore a proud smile, one that would be terribly familiar to anyone who knew him: he was very happy with his acquisition.