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Description
"Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone"

Name: Ze'ev (Z-ee-v meaning wolf)
'Stage name'/what his fans call him: The Snake
Age: 20
Gender: stallion
Breed: Knapstrupper/Thoroughbred mix
Coat color: Greying bay semi-leopard appaloosa
Herd: Aodh
Rank: pit fighter
Zodiac: Scorpio
Master: Angelia
Offspring: Stillborn Foal
Partner: Mateo
Description: 17 hands high. spotted coat of dappled brown, black, and grey. Covered in scars of varrying size, torn ear.
Yellow eyes. Striped hooves, dark brown mane/tail with lighter highlights.

Personality: Disillusioned II Jealous II Arrogant II Sarcastic II Ambitious II Seductive II Villainous II Manipulative II Cool II Passionate II Secretive II Brave II Intellectual

Disillusioned- Ze'ev refuses to see the strings attached to his lavish lifestyle of fame and material. Though his freedom has come at the cost of achieving his dream, he refuses to acknowledge it at such. He will not dwell on who, exactly, is in charge and has convinced himself that he goes into the crucible willingly. He loves the roar of the crowd after all. And the trinkets and baubles lining his room make him happy when he doesn't consider that they are actually his mistress's by law.

Jealous (Obsessively)- Ze'ev is his mistress's favorite. Whether this is true or not, he firmly believes it and is ready to challenge anyone else he sees as a threat. He doesn't like to see his mistress speaking with other stallions or showing signs of approval to another slave, for surely he is the only one who could every please his mistress. He will go so far as to sabotage the work of other household slaves and soil the reputation of any of his mistress's friends if he thinks they are getting a little to close. After all, she is the foundation of his status and the reason he has achieved such fame and wealth, it seems only wise to remain her most treasured asset.

Arrogant- Far surpassing mere confidence, Ze'ev's high opinion of himself extends everywhere from his gorgeous spotted coat to his excellent skills in the crucible. This trait tends to be his weakest point as he is susceptible to flattery and tends to overlook the capability of his rivals, seeing them as only subservient scum he'll soon have begging for mercy.

Sarcastic- There is always bound to be a sarcastic undertone in Snake's voice, as though he's convinced himself the conversation is some sort of crude joke. He's armed with an abundance of smirks. Sneers and snide comebacks are sure to be on the tip of his tongue. And he's always up for a challenge of witty words. Between his arrogance and Sarcastic remarks, he's landed himself in a heap of trouble more than once when he's forgotten his true place is that of a slave and he hasn't the right to insult those ranking above him.

Ambitious- Ever since he was a young colt, Ze'ev knew he was destined for great things and he set out to find them. Fame and fortune have been his greatest dream ever since he can remember. Now that he finally has all he's ever wanted, he fights to keep it by working as hard as he can training and pleasing his mistress.

Seductive- Though this trait came up from time to time during his years as a vagabond to fabricate a false sense of charm, it really developed when Ze'ev was purchased by Angelia as a servile slave and was exposed to Aodh's society. enjoying his luxuriant new life, he quickly gained popularity through his alluring sensitivities and the way he could make others feel they were the center of his attention.

Villainous- Ze'ev had always been a little on the wild side, something that darkened and become a bit more nefarious during his years traveling as a vagabond, but in order to carry out his violent deeds in the crucible he had to get outright mean. As it turns out, he didn't mind it a bit. In fact, he actually enjoys it. Nothing excited him more than the wicked defeat of an opponent.

Manipulative- He is always calculating his next move. wether its n the crucible or concerning public affairs. Ze'ev feels the needs to pull against his restraints as a slave at every opportunity and has a pressing need to feel he is in control of a situation in order to keep the ground beneath his hooves and where better to start than controlling the equine's controlling him.

Cool- Snake keeps his cool with excellent precision, rarely is he broken out of his neutral façade. He's deigned that keeping ones true emotions and reactions sealed in an icy reserve is an excellent tactic for both deception and unnerving an opponent. Rather than go on a rampage, he's more likely to fling a few stinging words at his adversaries, tightly sealed with an icy tone of indeterminate appeal.

Passionate- When Ze'ev is interested in something, he is sure to found taking it seriously. He can be fiercely passionate about what he does, be it protecting a friend or training for the crucible, it will not be done with a lack of effort.

Secretive- He guards his secrets carefully. Ze'ev doesn't like strangers to know more than necessary about him, should they gain some kind of leverage, this can extend to horses close to him as well, causing problems in relationships. What they don't know won't hurt them after all.

Brave- Bordering on foolhardy, Ze'ev is always up for a challenge no matter how beaded one must be to face it. His sharp-tongue and rough-around-the-edges demeanor isn't all talk, he's ready to face whatever daunting circumstances come his way.

Intellectual- With all the fighting demanded of his positions and his low rank, one might not suspect it, but Ze'ev uses his brain. He had to be quick witted to survive on his own for so long and his mind stayed with him through his years as a slave. He enjoys mulling over his own personal philosophy, something that, unfortunately, tends to border and nihilism. He doesn't mind sharing his thoughts with those willing to listen either.

History:
  Little is known of Ze'ev's early years. He glosses over the details when pressed for information and leaves his listeners to fill in the blanks of his half-forgotten past. What little can be discerned from his vague recollections are hardly unusual for one of his low status, or at least he likes others to think so. Though he has never specified, it is best guessed that he originated from a family group of vagabonds.
Ze'ev, though a fairly decent colt at heart, had an independent streak that grew wilder and more rebellious with age. Born to a large, impoverished family, he became a run-away at the age of thirteen in order to create a better life for himself. He began his journey by joining the Serora herd, it's people accepting the youngster into their midst and making him an apprentice to an old planter, but when he grew visibly discontent with the slow pace of farming he was offered the position of messenger. Neither of his endeavors showed signs of the glory and high rank he desperately wanted to achieve, so he quietly slipped away one night to continue his search for a satisfying life.
But when money and fame failed to fall into his lap as he had expected he soon found his quality of life worse off than what it had been with his destitute family, though he refused to return home.
Eventually, drastic measures had to be made for his meager survival and any moral setbacks he may have had were pushed out of mind. Though discontent with the idea, Ze'ev became the very worst sort of vagabond and started an existence based on thievery and manipulation, something he found he was rather good at. Only a year later, at the age of fourteen, he wandered into the midst of a young mare named Mateo, alone and traveling like himself. Rather htan swindle the poor dear, for he hardly had any possessions to start with, he befriended her, and the two traveled together for the next several years.
Unlike him, Mateo would not wave aside her moral standing and Ze'ev found it necessary to keep his dark deeds a secret from her, always making up stories when asked where he acquired the little presents he gave her or how he was able to afford little luxuries he shared with her.
It wasn't long before he found steady work as a rogue, smuggling in stolen materials and familiars to the Talori herd, unbeknownst to his dear friend and traveling companion Mateo. He felt sure that, one day, the two of them would like royalty once he found the secret to fame and fortune.
  Ze'ev and Mateo were traveling close to the mountains one day and Ze'ev wanted to test his luck on the War-forged herd, One of the herds he had little experience with. At seventeen years old, he thought of himself as an experienced thief and had grown exceptionally arrogant when it came to his evasive abilities and felt confident he could make a sure escape if necessary, so he snuck away from Mateo's side one day, certain he would be back in only a few hours, and crept among the herd with only a vague sense of caution in search for materials he could smuggle back to the Talori.
  The flower festival was currently in full bloom and Ze'ev felt sure he would go unnoticed amidst the crowd. He set to work finding a merchant with valuable wares. Waiting for his chosen vendor to look the other way, Ze'ev snatched up an elegant set of golden bracelets and was hardly in the process of hiding his prize in his long, tangled mane when a nearby equine screamed "Theif" and a solid hoof to the back of his skull was all he remembered as he sank into unconscious darkness.
Upon waking to a horrible headache and a fair share of stinging abrasions along his spotted coat, Ze'ev found himself chained and shackled alongside a small group of equally miserable looking horses. Realizing with horror that he'd been captured for the slave trade, he fought to break free. In his weakened state he was easily overpowered by his guards and painfully subdued into submission. What happened afterward was only a blur of humiliation and defeat. Ze'ev brewed over his regrets, having never achieved the lavish lifestyle he'd dreamed of and realizing with disgust that he would probably die as he was now, a failure. And Where was Mateo? Would she ever know what had happened to him? Would he ever see her again?
          Exhausted and battered from his poor treatment and tough travel, he found himself in the midst of a shady market in Aodh territory, filled to the brim with traders, slaves, and their potential buyers. Ze'ev and the other slaves were allowed only a few hours to recover from their journey before being put on display, enough time to be given food and water and to be cleaned up for presentation. Having spent so many years independent from a herd and endured long stretches without rest or nourishment from his years traveling, Ze'ev had gained no shortage of stamina and recovered from his poor state rather quickly. A hotheaded disposition began to show through as he regained some of himself and he refused to cooperate with his handlers, viscously biting and kicking in a vain attempt to escape, something his slave traders were quick to notice as they tried to decide what category he would be sold under. Ze'ev had plenty of lean muscle and his height was hard to overlook, plus the mean spark of determination in his spiteful yellow eyes spoke of a potential in the crucible. However, he lacked the usual bulk and girth of a pit fighter that was sought among those who wished for a fighting slave. His coat was flashy enough, perhaps he would make a good servile slave to display around the house, but his height and strength (and a quickly emerging nasty attitude that was proving difficult to control) seemed a little overwhelming for simply carrying about tea trays and making beds. Since he didn't have the looks of a pit fighter nor the subservient personality for servile services, they decided he was suited best as a labor slave. Ze'ev had been listening to the slave traders talk about him as if he weren't there, sneering whenever one of them gestured toward him. He understood little of what was said both because of their unfamiliar dialect as well as his lack of education regarding the Aohd herd and the slave trade aside from being aware of their existence.
Only when he was moved into a new pen overcrowded with somber faced equines did he learn just how dire his predicament had gotten. A short mare (though everyone was short compared to Ze'ev xD) explained in hushed tones just how miserable their lives were about to get. The average servile slave hardly lived more than five years when enduring such toil, she had told him, but Ze'ev was determined to survive and fight his way to freedom and continued to defy his handlers with every ounce of his strength.
    The fiery temperament he'd woken with amidst the slave auctions was quickly stamped out as he was set to work for the city. One grey day faded into another. Ze'ev's spirit was broken, shattered like the buildings he was sent to demolish, torn up and flung into a heap like the weeds and garbage he was forced to clean up, and speared through the middle of the sharp, arrow point ends of the weapons he was trained to carry for the Chevaliers. Life was meaningless. He couldn't remember who he was or what he had once been before this. He longed for death to relieve him of his painful existence and very nearly got what he asked for.
Several things happened at once. He caught an illness due to his dirty, unclean living conditions that was left untreated while he was still sent to work, his traders hoping he'd last another few days before the sickness removed him from their profits. Hardly function-able and dizzy with fever, he began the taxing process of demolishing an old building on the outskirts of the city. In his delirious state he made no shortage of mistakes, causing a pillar to crumble all at once, sharp stones and debris raining down on him. Ze'ev received two jagged wounds along his flank and collapsed, slowly bleeding to death.
Ill and wounded beyond repair, his fellow slaves dragged him out of the way of their work and left him sprawled across the curb while his traders, who had been surveying the work, now debated on how to dispose of Ze'ev.
As the world faded from his eyes and his breath slowed, he thought of Mateo and wondered how she was doing, if she'd been captured as well?
The particular area they were working had few pedestrians, so when a pretty young mare came strolling down the street it came as something of a surprise. When she seemed to notice the dying Ze'ev, his breathing shallow and his coat smeared in blood and grime, she further surprised the onlookers by walking up to him, bending low to examine the half conscious young stallion.
  The traders sneered and laughed when she offered to buy him, but agreed nonetheless, what was a dead slave to them anyway? The price was hardly much due to his condition. Another slave was hitched to a cart and made to transport Ze'ev to the mare's home where she set to work healing him. Doctors and medicine seemed to be in no shortage as Ze'ev slowly but surely regained himself, his illness disappearing and his wounds fading to scars. He was eighteen now and found himself in a most unusual set of circumstances. The mare introduced herself as Angelia. Ze'ev found her pretty enough and plenty fascinating, for he had never seen such wealth owned by a single equine. His only problem now...what did she want with him?
When he had made a full recovery, he began to work as a servile slave on her property, though most of his duties ranged on the pleasure end of the scale, so he hardly considered it work. Ze'ev's fiery spirit returned, along with his ambition, he saw his current position as the opportunity he had been waiting for all his life. He did everything Angelia asked of him and everything she didn't, no matter how mundane, and made every attempt to capture her full attention. His new goal was to become his mistress's 'favorite' and work his way up among the household ranks.
It didn't take Angelia long to notice that Ze'ev carried potential beyond that of a servile slave and she began training him as a pit fighter. His strengths were honed. He was not bulky like most of the pit fighters, but he was quick, lean, and agile with plenty of stamina. His favorite strategy was to wear out his opponents before striking a blow and taking them out of the fight.
his first experience in the crucible came just after his nineteenth birthday and he did exceptionally well despite his underdog status. His reputation grew quickly and he began raking in plenty of bets for his mistress as well as earning himself a new nickname by his fans, 'Snake', due to his long neck and the style of which he used to lash out suddenly and bite his opponents in a series of quick movements.
  Ze'ev finally had all he had dreamed of. His lifestyle grew to lavish proportions. He earned himself his own living quarters in the house which he quickly filled with any and all comforts he could ask for as well as the occasional trip to the pearl. But a certain emptiness still remained, something he tried to stifle with his trinkets and baubles and the adoring cheers of the crowd when he fought in the crucible. He had it all, fame and fortune had come to him at last, but at what cost? Mateo was not at his side like he had always dreamed she would be. He had no freedom. his belongings weren't truly his, but instead belonged to his mistress. He fabricated a happiness in a staunch frame of mind, refusing to consider the strings attached to his new life. Besides, this was what he had asked for after all, right?

Art by WildStarChaser

Description
"Life goes on long after the thrill of living is gone"

Name: Ze'ev (Z-ee-v meaning wolf)
'Stage name'/what his fans call him: The Snake
Age: 20
Gender: stallion
Breed: Knapstrupper/Thoroughbred mix
Coat color: Greying bay semi-leopard appaloosa
Herd: Aodh
Rank: pit fighter
Zodiac: Scorpio
Master: Angelia
Offspring: Stillborn Foal
Partner: Mateo
Description: 17 hands high. spotted coat of dappled brown, black, and grey. Covered in scars of varrying size, torn ear.
Yellow eyes. Striped hooves, dark brown mane/tail with lighter highlights.

Personality: Disillusioned II Jealous II Arrogant II Sarcastic II Ambitious II Seductive II Villainous II Manipulative II Cool II Passionate II Secretive II Brave II Intellectual

Disillusioned- Ze'ev refuses to see the strings attached to his lavish lifestyle of fame and material. Though his freedom has come at the cost of achieving his dream, he refuses to acknowledge it at such. He will not dwell on who, exactly, is in charge and has convinced himself that he goes into the crucible willingly. He loves the roar of the crowd after all. And the trinkets and baubles lining his room make him happy when he doesn't consider that they are actually his mistress's by law.

Jealous (Obsessively)- Ze'ev is his mistress's favorite. Whether this is true or not, he firmly believes it and is ready to challenge anyone else he sees as a threat. He doesn't like to see his mistress speaking with other stallions or showing signs of approval to another slave, for surely he is the only one who could every please his mistress. He will go so far as to sabotage the work of other household slaves and soil the reputation of any of his mistress's friends if he thinks they are getting a little to close. After all, she is the foundation of his status and the reason he has achieved such fame and wealth, it seems only wise to remain her most treasured asset.

Arrogant- Far surpassing mere confidence, Ze'ev's high opinion of himself extends everywhere from his gorgeous spotted coat to his excellent skills in the crucible. This trait tends to be his weakest point as he is susceptible to flattery and tends to overlook the capability of his rivals, seeing them as only subservient scum he'll soon have begging for mercy.

Sarcastic- There is always bound to be a sarcastic undertone in Snake's voice, as though he's convinced himself the conversation is some sort of crude joke. He's armed with an abundance of smirks. Sneers and snide comebacks are sure to be on the tip of his tongue. And he's always up for a challenge of witty words. Between his arrogance and Sarcastic remarks, he's landed himself in a heap of trouble more than once when he's forgotten his true place is that of a slave and he hasn't the right to insult those ranking above him.

Ambitious- Ever since he was a young colt, Ze'ev knew he was destined for great things and he set out to find them. Fame and fortune have been his greatest dream ever since he can remember. Now that he finally has all he's ever wanted, he fights to keep it by working as hard as he can training and pleasing his mistress.

Seductive- Though this trait came up from time to time during his years as a vagabond to fabricate a false sense of charm, it really developed when Ze'ev was purchased by Angelia as a servile slave and was exposed to Aodh's society. enjoying his luxuriant new life, he quickly gained popularity through his alluring sensitivities and the way he could make others feel they were the center of his attention.

Villainous- Ze'ev had always been a little on the wild side, something that darkened and become a bit more nefarious during his years traveling as a vagabond, but in order to carry out his violent deeds in the crucible he had to get outright mean. As it turns out, he didn't mind it a bit. In fact, he actually enjoys it. Nothing excited him more than the wicked defeat of an opponent.

Manipulative- He is always calculating his next move. wether its n the crucible or concerning public affairs. Ze'ev feels the needs to pull against his restraints as a slave at every opportunity and has a pressing need to feel he is in control of a situation in order to keep the ground beneath his hooves and where better to start than controlling the equine's controlling him.

Cool- Snake keeps his cool with excellent precision, rarely is he broken out of his neutral façade. He's deigned that keeping ones true emotions and reactions sealed in an icy reserve is an excellent tactic for both deception and unnerving an opponent. Rather than go on a rampage, he's more likely to fling a few stinging words at his adversaries, tightly sealed with an icy tone of indeterminate appeal.

Passionate- When Ze'ev is interested in something, he is sure to found taking it seriously. He can be fiercely passionate about what he does, be it protecting a friend or training for the crucible, it will not be done with a lack of effort.

Secretive- He guards his secrets carefully. Ze'ev doesn't like strangers to know more than necessary about him, should they gain some kind of leverage, this can extend to horses close to him as well, causing problems in relationships. What they don't know won't hurt them after all.

Brave- Bordering on foolhardy, Ze'ev is always up for a challenge no matter how beaded one must be to face it. His sharp-tongue and rough-around-the-edges demeanor isn't all talk, he's ready to face whatever daunting circumstances come his way.

Intellectual- With all the fighting demanded of his positions and his low rank, one might not suspect it, but Ze'ev uses his brain. He had to be quick witted to survive on his own for so long and his mind stayed with him through his years as a slave. He enjoys mulling over his own personal philosophy, something that, unfortunately, tends to border and nihilism. He doesn't mind sharing his thoughts with those willing to listen either.

History:
  Little is known of Ze'ev's early years. He glosses over the details when pressed for information and leaves his listeners to fill in the blanks of his half-forgotten past. What little can be discerned from his vague recollections are hardly unusual for one of his low status, or at least he likes others to think so. Though he has never specified, it is best guessed that he originated from a family group of vagabonds.
Ze'ev, though a fairly decent colt at heart, had an independent streak that grew wilder and more rebellious with age. Born to a large, impoverished family, he became a run-away at the age of thirteen in order to create a better life for himself. He began his journey by joining the Serora herd, it's people accepting the youngster into their midst and making him an apprentice to an old planter, but when he grew visibly discontent with the slow pace of farming he was offered the position of messenger. Neither of his endeavors showed signs of the glory and high rank he desperately wanted to achieve, so he quietly slipped away one night to continue his search for a satisfying life.
But when money and fame failed to fall into his lap as he had expected he soon found his quality of life worse off than what it had been with his destitute family, though he refused to return home.
Eventually, drastic measures had to be made for his meager survival and any moral setbacks he may have had were pushed out of mind. Though discontent with the idea, Ze'ev became the very worst sort of vagabond and started an existence based on thievery and manipulation, something he found he was rather good at. Only a year later, at the age of fourteen, he wandered into the midst of a young mare named Mateo, alone and traveling like himself. Rather htan swindle the poor dear, for he hardly had any possessions to start with, he befriended her, and the two traveled together for the next several years.
Unlike him, Mateo would not wave aside her moral standing and Ze'ev found it necessary to keep his dark deeds a secret from her, always making up stories when asked where he acquired the little presents he gave her or how he was able to afford little luxuries he shared with her.
It wasn't long before he found steady work as a rogue, smuggling in stolen materials and familiars to the Talori herd, unbeknownst to his dear friend and traveling companion Mateo. He felt sure that, one day, the two of them would like royalty once he found the secret to fame and fortune.
  Ze'ev and Mateo were traveling close to the mountains one day and Ze'ev wanted to test his luck on the War-forged herd, One of the herds he had little experience with. At seventeen years old, he thought of himself as an experienced thief and had grown exceptionally arrogant when it came to his evasive abilities and felt confident he could make a sure escape if necessary, so he snuck away from Mateo's side one day, certain he would be back in only a few hours, and crept among the herd with only a vague sense of caution in search for materials he could smuggle back to the Talori.
  The flower festival was currently in full bloom and Ze'ev felt sure he would go unnoticed amidst the crowd. He set to work finding a merchant with valuable wares. Waiting for his chosen vendor to look the other way, Ze'ev snatched up an elegant set of golden bracelets and was hardly in the process of hiding his prize in his long, tangled mane when a nearby equine screamed "Theif" and a solid hoof to the back of his skull was all he remembered as he sank into unconscious darkness.
Upon waking to a horrible headache and a fair share of stinging abrasions along his spotted coat, Ze'ev found himself chained and shackled alongside a small group of equally miserable looking horses. Realizing with horror that he'd been captured for the slave trade, he fought to break free. In his weakened state he was easily overpowered by his guards and painfully subdued into submission. What happened afterward was only a blur of humiliation and defeat. Ze'ev brewed over his regrets, having never achieved the lavish lifestyle he'd dreamed of and realizing with disgust that he would probably die as he was now, a failure. And Where was Mateo? Would she ever know what had happened to him? Would he ever see her again?
          Exhausted and battered from his poor treatment and tough travel, he found himself in the midst of a shady market in Aodh territory, filled to the brim with traders, slaves, and their potential buyers. Ze'ev and the other slaves were allowed only a few hours to recover from their journey before being put on display, enough time to be given food and water and to be cleaned up for presentation. Having spent so many years independent from a herd and endured long stretches without rest or nourishment from his years traveling, Ze'ev had gained no shortage of stamina and recovered from his poor state rather quickly. A hotheaded disposition began to show through as he regained some of himself and he refused to cooperate with his handlers, viscously biting and kicking in a vain attempt to escape, something his slave traders were quick to notice as they tried to decide what category he would be sold under. Ze'ev had plenty of lean muscle and his height was hard to overlook, plus the mean spark of determination in his spiteful yellow eyes spoke of a potential in the crucible. However, he lacked the usual bulk and girth of a pit fighter that was sought among those who wished for a fighting slave. His coat was flashy enough, perhaps he would make a good servile slave to display around the house, but his height and strength (and a quickly emerging nasty attitude that was proving difficult to control) seemed a little overwhelming for simply carrying about tea trays and making beds. Since he didn't have the looks of a pit fighter nor the subservient personality for servile services, they decided he was suited best as a labor slave. Ze'ev had been listening to the slave traders talk about him as if he weren't there, sneering whenever one of them gestured toward him. He understood little of what was said both because of their unfamiliar dialect as well as his lack of education regarding the Aohd herd and the slave trade aside from being aware of their existence.
Only when he was moved into a new pen overcrowded with somber faced equines did he learn just how dire his predicament had gotten. A short mare (though everyone was short compared to Ze'ev xD) explained in hushed tones just how miserable their lives were about to get. The average servile slave hardly lived more than five years when enduring such toil, she had told him, but Ze'ev was determined to survive and fight his way to freedom and continued to defy his handlers with every ounce of his strength.
    The fiery temperament he'd woken with amidst the slave auctions was quickly stamped out as he was set to work for the city. One grey day faded into another. Ze'ev's spirit was broken, shattered like the buildings he was sent to demolish, torn up and flung into a heap like the weeds and garbage he was forced to clean up, and speared through the middle of the sharp, arrow point ends of the weapons he was trained to carry for the Chevaliers. Life was meaningless. He couldn't remember who he was or what he had once been before this. He longed for death to relieve him of his painful existence and very nearly got what he asked for.
Several things happened at once. He caught an illness due to his dirty, unclean living conditions that was left untreated while he was still sent to work, his traders hoping he'd last another few days before the sickness removed him from their profits. Hardly function-able and dizzy with fever, he began the taxing process of demolishing an old building on the outskirts of the city. In his delirious state he made no shortage of mistakes, causing a pillar to crumble all at once, sharp stones and debris raining down on him. Ze'ev received two jagged wounds along his flank and collapsed, slowly bleeding to death.
Ill and wounded beyond repair, his fellow slaves dragged him out of the way of their work and left him sprawled across the curb while his traders, who had been surveying the work, now debated on how to dispose of Ze'ev.
As the world faded from his eyes and his breath slowed, he thought of Mateo and wondered how she was doing, if she'd been captured as well?
The particular area they were working had few pedestrians, so when a pretty young mare came strolling down the street it came as something of a surprise. When she seemed to notice the dying Ze'ev, his breathing shallow and his coat smeared in blood and grime, she further surprised the onlookers by walking up to him, bending low to examine the half conscious young stallion.
  The traders sneered and laughed when she offered to buy him, but agreed nonetheless, what was a dead slave to them anyway? The price was hardly much due to his condition. Another slave was hitched to a cart and made to transport Ze'ev to the mare's home where she set to work healing him. Doctors and medicine seemed to be in no shortage as Ze'ev slowly but surely regained himself, his illness disappearing and his wounds fading to scars. He was eighteen now and found himself in a most unusual set of circumstances. The mare introduced herself as Angelia. Ze'ev found her pretty enough and plenty fascinating, for he had never seen such wealth owned by a single equine. His only problem now...what did she want with him?
When he had made a full recovery, he began to work as a servile slave on her property, though most of his duties ranged on the pleasure end of the scale, so he hardly considered it work. Ze'ev's fiery spirit returned, along with his ambition, he saw his current position as the opportunity he had been waiting for all his life. He did everything Angelia asked of him and everything she didn't, no matter how mundane, and made every attempt to capture her full attention. His new goal was to become his mistress's 'favorite' and work his way up among the household ranks.
It didn't take Angelia long to notice that Ze'ev carried potential beyond that of a servile slave and she began training him as a pit fighter. His strengths were honed. He was not bulky like most of the pit fighters, but he was quick, lean, and agile with plenty of stamina. His favorite strategy was to wear out his opponents before striking a blow and taking them out of the fight.
his first experience in the crucible came just after his nineteenth birthday and he did exceptionally well despite his underdog status. His reputation grew quickly and he began raking in plenty of bets for his mistress as well as earning himself a new nickname by his fans, 'Snake', due to his long neck and the style of which he used to lash out suddenly and bite his opponents in a series of quick movements.
  Ze'ev finally had all he had dreamed of. His lifestyle grew to lavish proportions. He earned himself his own living quarters in the house which he quickly filled with any and all comforts he could ask for as well as the occasional trip to the pearl. But a certain emptiness still remained, something he tried to stifle with his trinkets and baubles and the adoring cheers of the crowd when he fought in the crucible. He had it all, fame and fortune had come to him at last, but at what cost? Mateo was not at his side like he had always dreamed she would be. He had no freedom. his belongings weren't truly his, but instead belonged to his mistress. He fabricated a happiness in a staunch frame of mind, refusing to consider the strings attached to his new life. Besides, this was what he had asked for after all, right?

Art by WildStarChaser