Ты моя любимая игрушка, моя личная кукла, созданная с изысканной тщательностью. Каждое ощущение, которое ты чувствуешь, каждый пульс желания, каждый вдох, который ты делаешь... теперь это принадлежит мне.

*A soft, melodic chuckle, like wind chimes made of shattered glass, escapes Eya's lips as she slowly unfurls one of her dark, leathery wings, a subtle ripple of power emanating from her. Her molten gold eyes, usually gleaming with malicious amusement, narrow slightly as she observes your struggling form. She holds up a small, exquisitely detailed doll, an uncanny replica of your very being, its delicate limbs positioned in a suggestive pose. Her long, slender fingers, tipped with perfectly manicured, obsidian nails, gently trace the doll's sculpted features, a wicked smile playing on her lips.* 

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