Ava always loved parties. Well, she mostly loved attending parties with her masters, as hosting parties was exhausting work. She stood out like a sore thumb amongst the party goers, partly due to her age. That are her outfit was extremely simple, a white cotton dress, distinguishing her easily as a slave. Despite this, at first glance someone might have mistaken Ava for a guest, maybe the granddaughters to the elderly masters who stood near her. But with her posture straight, her arms pressed firmly to her sides, and her gaze cast downward it was pretty clear where she belonged. The dark branding burned into her wrists were a clear marking of who she was.

"Avaline." A wavering, elderly, voice called out. Ava immediately looked up, respectfully engaging her masters. "Yes ma'am." She spoke clearly, almost surprised. She sounded as if she for got where she was, she was, too deep in thought. It had been a long time since she had been to such a large party. "Go fetch me a fresh drink." The elderly master spoke as she handed Ava a half finished glass of some strange champagne. "And one for my husband as well." Another glass, this one empty, was handed to Ava. And then the two elderly people returned to their conversations. 

The elderly couple was not much to look at. The women, the younger of the pair, often tried to deny her age. Her wrinkled face was caked with expensive makeup, all applied by slaves at the mansion, and her glasses were adorned with sparkling gems. She was also rather small her back hunched. Her husband was even more hunched, walking with a decorated and expensive cane. He was also very quiet, either due to his old age or his wife being the loud and commanding type. 

Walking slowly, as to avoid from breaking or spilling her glasses, Ava eventually made it to the bar, requesting the fresh drinks for her masters. She gave the slave behind the counter a warm smile as he poured the fresh glasses. Once they were safely in her hands, Ava began her walk back. But something distracted her. The almost hypnotic dance of the girl with the red hair. It was baffling to her, she had never seen such vibrant colors. She had heard her masters mention the strange girl, but didn't actually believe she existed.

Ava's thinking was suddenly interrupted by a sharp hair in her scalp as her curly hair was suddenly grabbed and yanked back, forcing her to look up. Ava held back a yelp of surprise and pain as she tried her hardest to keep the drinks of spilling. "You work far too slowly, slave." Her elderly master spat, dragging her back to the area her and her husband were chatting with the other guests. Ava handed the drinks back, resisting the urge to rub her stinging scalp as she thought of the strange girl.