A/N: Theif is misspelt on purpose.
Moneybags paced agitatedly, muttering hotly under his breath.
The dragon wasn't doing as well as he'd hoped. There had been a few outbursts of course; trying to dart out of the cage or growling some sort of speech. But Moneybags quickly tampered that down with a few buzzes of the zapping collar that Theif had provided. After that, it had grown sullen and wary, watching with shimmering indigo eyes.
The worst altercation had been when it had refused to eat; seemingly growing tired of the raw meat. In a rare fit of anger, Moneybags had wrenched open the door, intent on force-feeding it rather than letting it waste away. Perhaps it was planned, or simply fearful instinct, but it had breathed hotly and snapped at him when he grew close, wrenching against the chains.
Moneybags pressed the button. And held it.
It screamed until it was hoarse, and kept whimpering and crying softly when he finally let go. Moneybags kicked the plate towards it, and then relocked the door.
It learned it's lesson; it was to eat, even if it didn't want to, and if it ever tried any trick like that again, it would face severe consequences.
And now, its third week in, its scales were becoming dull, losing their shine. It's face became worn, despondent. The dragon fly was making a racket all the time, its soft light dipping to blue, sometimes green, that only rose back for a few hours after eating fodder butterflies.
To add to his foul mood, when he had kicked the dish it had let a small gash across the left side of the dragon's face. He knew it would heal with time - wasn't even deep enough to scar. But the blight infuriated him more than the time he chipped that rare vase from Aquaria Towers.
"I suppose I'll just have to talk to Theif again," Moneybags muttered, pulling on the edges of his suit jacket to straighten it out. "He, admittedly, knows more about dragons than I do. Clearly, this would be the wise choice."
It left distaste in his mouth to admit so, even to himself. But as snub as he could be, he wasn't one to allow his pride to ruin his collection. And, in the case of dealing with live treasure, there were added complications that would need to be taken care of.
He glanced at the stairs leading down to the basement; the whimpering has stifled a while ago. It was nice to have silence again.
Yes, he'd contact Theif and get his advice on how to proceed. Teaching it to sit pretty, what to use to shine its scales, and so forth.
He'd make this worn-out treasure shine irresistibly to every collector in Avalar, so help him.