Maya sat in a holding pen, cursing himself for being stupid enough to come out of hiding. The recent bad weather had forced him to leave the outdoors in search of safer places and he'd been captured. He hadn't gone without a fight, but clearly he'd lost as he was now sitting in a smelly holding pen, waiting to see who would buy him. It was his own fault, he thought as he stood up and began pacing impatiently. He had to run away. He'd had a good life. So he'd been expected to provide blood for his master from time to time. Big deal. He'd still had a roof over his head, food in his belly and he knew the people he was with. He sighed, leaning against the wall. All he could do was wait, he guessed.