[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/SAoO19v.jpg[/img][/center]

[color=0076a3]"First of all, while you are my property, your name is Tamia."[/color]

[color=0076a3]"I have very few rules, Tamia, and I like to think myself as merciful. Two, what I expect from you, is to follow my orders and stay close to me at all times. Three, you are free to do whatever else you wish as long as you don't stray to far from me without my permission. Four, you're not to do anything else for anyone other than me without my permission."[/color]

Tamia remained curled up as her mistress laid down the base rules, which the slave kept track of carefully in her head in order to not displease her owner in the future.  The slave did question why her mistress found it necessary to state her name, a little surprised that Eirwen even bothered to know such a useless fact.  The servant knew most masters tried to think themselves of being kind and merciful, but those who usually thought that the most turned out to be the most cruel in the end as they constantly believed their punishments lenient.

However the orders themselves seemed to largely amount to 'stay close, do what your supposed to, don't interact with others'.  Tamia questioned the last part for a few moments before dismissing such thoughts.  It wasn't her place to ponder such things, only to obey. 

A loud yawn followed her speech, and any emotion that could be taken as hostile anger or a freezing calm seemed to leave the voice of her owner, replaced by ... the innocent tone of exhaustion?  The following few sentences were constantly interrupted by yawns, but the words that made their way through were ... nice? ... sweet? ... maybe even a little apologetic?

[color=wheat][i]No.  A master never apologizes.  Mistress simply believed a slave to be more obedient than the way her property acted.[/i][/color]

Still, the tears stopped and her body gradually began to still, the energy of fear no longer forcing its way out.  A ... tall fox eared boy walked up, and began to lecture mistress on proper behavior.  Thankfully, her owner seemed too exhausted to care at the moment, and simply ignored the somewhat cheerful voice of the snow-colored kitsune and ...

... a soft impact landed on Tamia's shoulder.  The kitten shivered with fear for another moment, afraid that her mistress was grabbing her in order to take out her frustrations with this new creature on someone who wouldn't be able to resist.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, the wheat haired girl looked at her left shoulder to see what was going on, half expecting to be punished for looking on the visage of her mistress, and instead finding the sleeping face of her owner.  Instead of beatings, the one using Tamia as an impromptu pillow gave a quick final order about not waking her up except in the most dire of circumstances, and soon was gone into the land of dreams.

For a few seconds, the slave didn't dare move, afraid of waking her mistress.  But as another approached and tried to reclaim her familiar without her owner stirring, Tamia realized that she was fast asleep.

The kitten contemplated hopping away quietly to escape, but the slave had been ordered to sit there.  Moving was not an option ... and Eirwen looked surprisingly peaceful.  Even the most terrifying person had to escape to the innocence of sleep for a few hours a day.

Despite the violence and threats that occurred less than ten minutes beforehand, the pet found herself enjoying the contact of another.  Away from the manor and master, she hadn't expected much intimacy ... yet, here she was.

The slave reached into the cart, and after a short one handed struggle with the supplies managed to find a reasonably thick blanket and pillow.  After placing the pillow into her lap and draping the blanket from the shoulders of her mistress, Tamia lowered the sleeping head onto the pillow.  After a few moments, she began to even out the messy strands of black and white hair.  It was simply the natural thing to do when another was in that position.

A nervous voice joined the conversation in front of her, bright eyes downcast for a moment.  The fox eared one had only meant well.  [color=wheat]"This slave ... agrees with your lady.  As her property ... this body is to be used however mistress pleases."[/color]  The back of her head still hurt, but the words left her lips without malice and were instead spoken with a combination of nervousness and acceptance.

Was she allowed to speak to others?  Did that count as a form of contact?  The slave was uncertain, and nervously ended what she spoke.  Yellow eyes returned to gaze at the peaceful visage of her owner.