He’d not made a sound as they’d carried him home from where they found him; the strong brown rope still binding his limbs. Or as they’d laid his battered body on the soft white bed sheets. He’d grumbled as they’d undone the tightly knotted cords which bit into his skin before they’d washed away the blood that had seeped from the cuts and grazes marking his body. The last thing he remembered was the feel of arms around him. Waking in the morning light, the arms still held him, but his body had healed and returned to his human form.
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