The capture of something pure

The capture of something pure

Triumph. The feeling of triumph pulsed through his blood as he tightened the bonds on the creature's beak. Finally he would be acknowledged, he would be known for his success and he would be able to dwell with the royal family in the palace, the only place he felt he rightfully belonged.
"Bring the beast." He commanded with a wave of his arm. A tall and stocky man approached the creature. Cautiously, with respect, nothing is beautiful should be bound and whipped in such a way. Nothing. The man took hold of the long rope that trailed down from the creature's strapped beak and began following the higher class man down the streets of the grubby city.
As they approached the palace the creature started, it threw up its head and tried to screech behind its gag. When it couldn't break the ropes it threw it majestic head towards the ground, planning to drive the peasant handler to the ground, or perhaps burn his hands with the rope, which would cause him to let go.
"What's going on?!" The man called behind him, turning around with such speed his gracious blue robes billowed in his wake, making him look more menacing than the creature had first seen him. The man held one hand out horizontally, as if he was accepting some sort of wicked gift from a peasant or servant, his other hand was tucked inside his robe, hiding something from the creatures view.
     "It's the beast, sir. It's trying to break its bonds." The peasant called as he was being jerked from his place on the ground, and almost thrown across the street. He kept a firm grip on the rope.
The man rolled his eyes. In one swift movement, he uncovered his other hand, the hand hidden inside his robe, and a long cat-of-nine-tails whip. The creature's eyes widened in fear, the whites showing around the glittering green irises. It tossed his head violently; the rope started the fray around its beak. The man swung the deadly whip.
Pain, unbearable pain stung the creatures head above its eye, hot blood stained the white fur and blinded the majestic creature. It came quietly.

The doors to the throne room opened. The man walked in, his whip hand hidden in his robe, the gold patterned glittered in the sunlight that filtered through the palace windows. At the end of the room the emperor stood with his daughter. The princess's long black hair was braided down her back; she stood tall and, to the man, was worth this trouble.
He stopped in the middle of the floor and bowed low. "My Lord, I have returned with the thing I have chosen to win your daughters hand, if she accepts my gift, she will be mine, no?"
"If your gift appeals to the princess, you will be hers." The emperor stated. "Show us this gift."
The man straightened and smiled. "Bring in the gift!" He called waving his free hand.
The peasant handler struggled in with the creature. White feathers, white fur, a rarity. Blood stained the creature's eye and it walked with heavy feet, its talons clicking on the marble floor.
The princess shrieked. "A Snowy Griffin! Where did you find such a beautiful beast?"
The man smiled, "I have my ways princess. The gift, I see, pleases you. We shall be wed this afternoon, yes?"
The princess ran across the floor towards the Griffin. "We shall never be wed. What have you done to it?" She yelled in a stern, high pitched voice. She indicated the deep gash on the Griffin's forehead.
"I did no such thing, my princess."
"This gift does not please me; I will not allow such a majestic creature to be imprisoned for human uses!" With that she cut the Griffin's bonds.
Sensing freedom the Griffin screeched, the sound echoed around the room, causing most of the people close to the creature to duck and cover their ears. The Griffin spread its feathered wings and took flight, buffering the men in the room with gusts of wind. An open window was all it needed, freedom was complete and it smashed through the glass and flew towards the south, uttering a long and victorious cry.