The Beast sat in his cage, staring curiously at the human opposite him. They had now been in 17 fights so far. Each was a little more difficult than the last. But as they fought more, they only got stronger with each other. The human did not grow much in skill, unlike the Beast who was constantly growing more intelligent, but rather the allied humans' increase in strength was the synergy that he now had in combat with the beast. They understood each other in combat well.
They had just both returned from their last fight, where both of them had dominated their opponents - a group of gargantuan serpents, chained and ridden by humans. And now they both sat in their separated cages. The human always did this, after a fight. He would sit cross legged, not speaking or being loud like the other humans in cages. He remained entirely silent, with his eyes closed.
The Beast looked up after a few moments lost in thought, as he smelt food. A cart came round all of the cages at this time of day, filled with food for the beasts and the humans. A scarred hand passed a bowl of porridge into the humans cage, and then a pile of rotten meat into the beast's. He looked down at the meat. He wasn't hungry anyways. He had eaten plenty from the round before.
Instead he shuffled towards the bars that separated he and the human. And so did the human. Every time they ate, they did this. And the human would speak to him. Obviously, The Beast could not usually understand his words even though he had picked up how to say a couple of things through talking with the human, but the human didnt seem to mind.
"You did well. That last fight was good."
The human grunted. The beast just stared at him.
"Good…"
He growled back as he shifted around, sitting cross legged.
"Good… Food."
He pointed to the humans bowl of porridge, and the human shook his head, smiling a little. That was one of the few words the beast had learnt.
"No. Not good food. Bad food."
The beast looked a little disappointed. He had always wanted to try that porridge. He never got any, as the arena masters always just fed him rotten meat and vegetables. And he had hoped the porridge would taste better than whatever he had. But the human didnt seem to agree.
"I… Good? Well? Fight?"
The human nodded, his eyes turned down towards the porridge.
"Yes… You did good…"
He took a spoonful of the porridge, making a sour face at it. The beast watched him curiously. Then the human looked up to him.
"I've never told you my name before, you know. My name is Syrian."
The beast seemed confused again. He couldn't understand what the man was saying, as the Beast wasn't used to such complex sentences yet. Normally the human would just give up. But he found himself wanting his newfound ally to understand what he had said. So, he made an effort to point to himself to try and communicate.
"Syrian."
He spoke clearly as he jabbed at his own chest.
"Me. I am Syrian. That's my name."
The beast nodded slowly.
"You Syrian? Name?"
He pointed to the human, and Syrian nodded back, a small smile pulling upwards on his lips.
"Yes! Good. That's my name."
Syrian then pointed to the beast.
"Whats your name?"
The beast just shrugged, and Syrian gave up with a sigh, going back to eating his porridge.