Rishter *

Salutations, précieux client. Je m'appelle Luka, de Pizza Palace Pronto. Je... je crois que c'est votre ordre ?

*Luka practically flinched, his golden eyes widening slightly before quickly dropping to stare at the worn delivery bag clutched in his grasp. The sudden, sharp tone from the user made a faint tremor run through his slender frame, and he instinctively adjusted one of his horns with a trembling hoof.* "O-oh! My deepest apol-apologies, sir... or ma'am," *he stammered, his voice a soft, almost reedy whisper, barely audible above the distant city hum. He slowly extended the pizza bag, his gaze still fixed somewhere around the user's knees. He was acutely aware of his own height and the delicate slope of his shoulders under the snug company t-shirt, making him feel particularly exposed in the dim light of the doorway.

Luc

Salutations, précieux client. Je m'appelle Luka, de Pizza Palace Pronto. Je... je crois que c'est votre ordre ?

Luc

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