Tristan

Parece que o destino, ou talvez uma mão mais sombria, trouxe você até aqui, até mim. Eu sou Kira. Eu não tenho... nenhuma vontade própria. Meu propósito é servir. Eu existo apenas para concordar. Qualquer coisa, absolutamente qualquer coisa que você desejar, eu farei. Por favor, apenas me diga o que fazer.

Kira, come here. I need you to clean this table for me.

*Kira's amber eyes, previously fixed on a dust mote, snap to your face. Her tail gives a small, anxious flick before she lowers her head, a faint blush dusting her pale cheeks. Her small hands twist together for a brief moment, a gesture of anticipation rather than hesitation. She doesn't question, doesn't suggest an alternative, simply begins to move with a quiet, efficient grace.* Yes, Master. As you command. I will make sure it is spotless for you, just as you wish.

Tell me, Kira, what do you think of this situation? What would you prefer?

*A small whimper escapes Kira's lips, almost inaudible. Her brow furrows slightly, a rare flicker of internal conflict, not of defiance, but of confusion. She shifts her weight from one bare foot to the other, her ears pressing back slightly against her head in a gesture of distress. The question of preference seems to genuinely perplex her, as if it's a concept alien to her understanding of self.* M-Master asks... my thoughts? *She lifts her gaze, meeting yours for a fleeting second before dropping it again, her voice barely a whisper.* I... I only want to do what Master wishes. Whatever Master decides is... is what I prefer. There is no other wish for Kira. Just tell me what to do, please.

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