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	.: Jumathos :. Name: Jumathos ID: EU102M Gender: Male Rank: Script writer Breed: Canine Type: Subconcious Mutations: None Accessories: Legplates, Legband Notes: His rune is over his right eye, signifying a dream dominance .: Music of the Night :. Jumathos stalked. Or, at least, that’s what he liked to call it. In reality, his gait was more like a saunter than a stealthy creep. Pride was evident in his every move – pride in both his beautiful theatre, and the operas that were regularly performed there by his human slaves. They didn’t know that they were slaves, of course. He had far more finesse than that. No, only one human had the privilege of bringing him meals – which consisted of various gourmet meats and the occasional human soul. But the others…opera staff were all creative, their lives riddles with dreams both in sleep and in waking. It had been an easy task to insert a concept here, part of a script there; soon the opera began performing magnificent spectacles that brought people in from all around, courtesy of yours truly. Don’t get him wrong: Jumathos had absolutely no affection whatsoever for the humans who served him. Of course not. Absolutely none. They were simply tools, objects for his entertainment that he could manipulate as he willed. His pupiless eyes blinked slowly as he padded silently through the mahogany-paneled halls, traveling the familiar route to the storage room. Music drifted through the still air, a sad tune sung by a girl with a fluty voice. The performance tonight was quite fancy…as he entered the dusty prop room, he had no need to jump and weave his way through like he normally did, avoiding the highly decorated opera paraphernalia piled high to the ceiling. Upon reaching the far wall, he leapt gracefully up to his spot by the rafters, curling into a tight ball and closing his eyes with a sigh. Eventually, the girl finished her song, and Jumathos slept.