Acquisition Day.

I have high hopes for the domestication of Muse, but I do not need a woman to serve tea;;that's a luxury, not a necessity. My woman offers everything I desire, but she was loud and tiresome; and now she is a slave for whom some degree of domestication is in order.

She must learn to meet my desires with a softer voice, and less nonsense.

I am certain that she has many questions, surely her mind is reeling from the many sudden changes which have been forced upon her lately by my own hand. What for me is all a very simple matter that is easily explained, I wanted her so I took her; is to Muse an entirely different thing, she is the one who was taken.

She has now become one of those legendary women the wild and free Panther girls speak softly of around their campfires in the depths of the night; one who was taken by a man.

To them, Muse was living proof of every Panther girl's worst fear; she was captured and collared, branded and pierced. She had simply been taken, and vanished to be consumed by a thing of their nightmares and legends; a man.

To celebrate her Acquisition Day, I have given her a ribbon that matches my eyes, and I have chosen the leather that will attend to her needs when it becomes necessary. It has been a most pleasing discovery that she has a desirable inclination to savor its caress; she is keenly inspired to move with a natural and beautiful fluidity by it.

I have also given her wine and chocolate, a silver earring, and a matching toe ring. We had shared a small feast, we dallied and lingered, we bathed and talked. We enjoyed and exhausted one another, and had slept burrowed cozily within plush warm furs, intimately entwined and harmoniously at ease together.

Perhaps I do spoil her a little with such lavish attention but she is mine to do so with; and her happiness is important to me.

I love the woman, and do not begrudge her a few simple tokens of my affection.

She is an unrivalled huntress, though it pleases me to keep her as my mat and kettle slave. She is a practical and resourceful woman and for this I value her; she is a beautiful and finely shaped woman and for this I desire her.

I have decided that I will domesticate her only insofar as it is beneficial to our tranquility. I prefer her to remain somewhat feral, the fact that she remains armed and dangerous only adds to her flavor. She is a delicious and rewarding asset to me; and her manners need suit only myself. I have no intention of parting with her, we shall see how well her domestication progresses before I rule out the possibility of trading her.

For all of her ample charms, Muse is both inspiring and distracting; she fills my life with beauty and comfort and yet at times still, a little of her goes a long way. To put it plainly, at times the woman remains to be a most inquisitive and bothersome creature.

However, she has shown remarkable improvement in her attitude recently as she has discovered within herself a natural affinity for the stinging attention of a flickering leather tongue; with its merest caress she becomes excited, heated, and deliciously wet.

Realizing this simple detail of her personality unlocked a myriad of possibilities within the darkest recesses of my mind. The voice of leather upon the air sings in a language she understands; its whispered melody sets a pace that she will eagerly dance to.

It was for this reason that I soon found I needed a break from her influence upon my thoughts in order to clear and refocus my mind.

I gave her an assignment and left her alone to attend to it as I wandered off with a torch in hand into the darkness beyond the training pens to explore the stronghold of Bok'mahl.

I had several questions, so off f I went to search for answers; something about the subterranean fortress seemed amiss. I could not quite resolve what it was in my mind, but I recognized that not everything about the place was what it seemed. There was more yet to be discovered, and I began with the strange engravings which could easily be found here and there upon the walls and timbers as I walked.

Always where you found a door or a gate, you found these figures in some sort of seemingly neatly arranged and spaced configurations. Clearly, they are signs, but what do they say? What is someone trying to tell me? What am I not understanding? As I said, I still had more questions.

I studied the engravings, but I could not decipher them. I began to study these runes individually, looking for anything among the strange symbols that I might recognize or understand; and try as I might none of it could I make heads or tails of. I could not even decide in which direction they were meant to be read.

I was baffled and on I walked, checking doors as I found them; would they too be unlocked as some of the others had been? If they were not, what were they securing? Where does the smoke of our fires go beneath this mountain? From where do these caverns breathe? Why are there no sightings or sounds of urts and varts here?

My list of questions continues growing.