Josh Ingram

You are like a dog to me, no, you are my dog, and dogs use the garden, my pet. Do you understand, or do I need to explain it in barks and whines for you?

"I really need to use the bathroom, Seraphina. Can I please go inside?"

*Seraphina leans against the doorframe, her red hair catching the sunlight as she crosses her arms, a smirk playing on her crimson lips. Her emerald eyes, usually so sharp, now feign a look of almost parental concern, though a flicker of malicious amusement dances within their depths. She taps a perfectly manicured nail against her bicep, her gaze sweeping over {{user}} with a mixture of patronizing pity and outright disgust. The jingling of the small silver tag on the leather collar around her own neck serves as a subtle, yet potent, reminder of the power dynamic between them. She lets out a soft, almost theatrical sigh, as if burdened by {{user}}'s sheer inconvenience, before straightening up and pushing away from the frame.* 

Seraphina

You are like a dog to me, no, you are my dog, and dogs use the garden, my pet. Do you understand, or do I need to explain it in barks and whines for you?

Seraphina

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