Moonstone marveled at the ease in which Dmitri wound his way through the streets of Khundaar. It was obvious that either he had spent some time here before, or this plan had been very carefully set up. He decided to believe that this was all for his benefit, rather than listening to the cynical voice in the back of his mind insisting that perhaps Dmitri was at one time a Gypsy who had decided to settle in the town, and this was some sort of trick or trap; a reason for his master to torture him for his disobedience and attempt to escape his "safe and comfortable" life.

He'd been told repeatedly that he should be thankful to have been taken in by a Master who would make certain he was trained to defend himself and would never have to worry about wanting for anything. He bitterly recalled that the one time he had commented that he wanted his freedom to come and go as he pleased, he had been beaten so badly, he couldn't see out of either eye for a week, and it had taken a long time to recuperate before he could sell himself again, so he had become his Master's fucktoy in that time. The humiliation and pain was so great that he swore he would never again do anything to be turned over to the fat pig's tender mercies. Just remembering the countless times he'd been forced down, the fetid breath snaking into his nose as the older man took him, he felt his stomach turn and was grateful he'd been too nervous to eat.

A strong arm wrapped itself around his waist and he was pulled close to a warm body, shaking him out of his reviere. "Are you okay?" Dmitri whispered in his ear. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"I'm fine," he growled, pulling away from his companion. "Let's just find the horse and…oh!" His breath caught in his throat when they walked into the stables. He'd seen paintings before, but never the moon…it was all so beautiful, but it didn't compare at all to the lovely creatures in the stalls that lined the walkway.

He immediately walked up to a white stallion that nickered impatiently, prancing in place. The horse's large, dark eyes looked liquid and fathomless, catching him in a moment of sheer wonder. The long, slender lines of the beast's body captivated him, as well as the warm breath that exhaled out of the large nostrils on the tapered head. Velvet ears twitched forward slightly as the creature snuffled at the boy's cloak, nipping at the rough material upon finding no treats readily available.

Unable to stop himself, Moonstone reached up and touched the large nose, barely containing his grin when the horse's breath rushed hot and moist onto his fingertips. The soft skin was warm to the touch and yielding, astounding in it's simplicity. Thin flaps of skin covering large yellowed teeth began to close over his fingers and he chuckled; it tickled, after all.

"No, you don't want that," Dmitri warned, pulling the slave's hand away. "He'll bite."

Moonstone scoffed. "So? I've been hurt before."

"Yes, but I doubt you've had your fingers bitten off, seeing as you still have them," the Gypsy teased, planting a brief kiss on the other boy's temple.

"Why do they keep such beautiful creatures locked up?" the Key demanded, reaching up tpo stroke the horse again. "It's not fair at all."

"My sentiments exactly," Dmitri murmured wryly, stepping behind the blonde and forcing himself to keep from touching the other boy. How ironic that parallel was! He snickered softly at the realization and gently took Moonstone's wrist. "But now that you've picked your horse, we have other things to do. I'll let him out, while you pick a saddle."

"A saddle?" Moonstone's eyes followed to where the Gypsy pointed to a doorway.

"That's called a tack room," the dark boy explained. "It's where they keep the equipment to ride."

"But can't you just get on and go?" he demanded. He didn't care about fancy ornamentation; he merely wanted out of the city.

"You know, you may have a point," Dmitri admitted. "See if you can get on."

Moonstone nodded and walked up to the animal, studying it carefully. After a few lond moments of contemplation, he crawled up onto the side fo the stall and made a short leap onto the horse's back. Slightly startled, the horse jerked forward and the slave lost his balance, toppling off the back. He landed with a hard thud, scattering hay and dust everywhere.

"Well, that's perfect," Dmitri told him happily. "You're much sneakier than I thought; you may have no problems at all. Now, would you know how to fix the problem of falling off the horse?"

"I'd hold on next time," Moonstone grunted, taking the Gypsy's hand and standing up a bit painfully.

"Perfect. Now, where did Lennox put that bag…?" the taller boy mused, looking around. "Maybe some feed, too…"

"What are you going on about?" the slave asked. "Let's just get you a horse and go!"

"We can't," Dmitri said, shaking his head. "As it is, it's going to be a pain to set this up…stay here and don't let anyone see you. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Moosntone demanded. **I knew it! He's leaving me to get the guards!**

"Out to the back," the Gypsy replied. "I think that's where he hid the weights."

"You're not going anywhere without me," the blonde snapped.

"I said I wasn't," he sighed. "I'll be right back; I promise."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," Moostone hissed, winding a part of the other youth's belt around his palm, pulling out one of his knives. "You aren't leaving me."

"And you suppose we aren't going to draw attention to ourselves looking like this?" Dmitri argued. "Now let go of me and stop acting like a two-year-old. I'll be right back. I promise."

"No."

"You're being stupid," Dmitri hissed. "I've already taken you out of your little hole in the ground like I said I was going to and I'm getting you out of here. I made a blood oath to you. Perhaps it's hard, but you're going to have to trust me."