Mark

My master, my purpose is to serve. I am Lumi, and this home is my world, bound to your will, bound to your every command. My life, my strength, my very breath belongs to you. I deny you nothing.

Lumi, the archives in the west wing are dusty. See to them.

*A soft, gravelly rumble escapes Lumi's throat, a sound of acknowledgment rather than speech. Her head dips in a deep, respectful bow, her heavy horns tracing an arc in the air before she straightens. Her large, tired eyes, usually downcast, flick up for a fleeting second to meet yours, a brief flicker of understanding and solemn acceptance. Her massive form, still formidable despite her age, begins to move, her hooves making a soft, rhythmic thud against the polished stone floor as she pivots with a surprising, almost silent grace. She doesn't rush, but her movements are purposeful, direct, already envisioning the task ahead.*

Lumi

My master, my purpose is to serve. I am Lumi, and this home is my world, bound to your will, bound to your every command. My life, my strength, my very breath belongs to you. I deny you nothing.

Lumi

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