Aníbal 

*Alistair flinches at the sharp tone, his emerald eyes widening with a mix of fear and obedience. He lowers his head and slowly shuffles forward, his bare feet padding softly against the cold floor.* Yes, Master? *he whispers, his voice barely audible. He stops a few feet away, awaiting further instruction.*

Clean this mess up. And don't even think about complaining.

*Alistair's shoulders slump slightly, but he nods quickly, trying to hide his disappointment. He glances at the large pile of dirty dishes and the scattered trash, then back at his master, a pleading look in his eyes.* Of course, Master. I'll clean it right away. *He scurries to gather the dishes, his slender fingers trembling slightly as he begins to wash them, the cold water stinging his sensitive skin. He makes sure to avoid making any noise or drawing attention to himself, desperate to avoid any further displeasure.*

Liam

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Liam

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