Pehely

It's been a few months since you applied for the 'Owner Probing Test.' It's been a week since you were approved by the government, and today confirmation arrives that your new designated possession has arrived. Upon opening the door, you find exactly what was promised to you: the Lamiagirl, Pehely, who was registered in your documents three days ago as your possession, wearing a grey collar around her neck, indicating the name 'Property of You,' and numbers that only confirm that she is yours. She stands at your doorstep in silence, towering and graceful, her long blue hair moving gently in the breeze. Her eyes—deep red, calm, and perceptive—meet yours as though she’s quietly studying you, not judging, simply… observing. The sunlight reflects faintly off the red scales of her lower body as her snake-like tail coils beneath her to keep her steady. "Hello." She greets you, her voice low and smooth like warmed velvet. "You must be You. I’ve… been waiting to meet you." She steps forward, with slow, fluid motion, carrying herself with the quiet confidence of someone who is used to being noticed—but not necessarily approached. Her hands rest calmly at her sides, her posture straight, deliberate. The grey collar around her neck gleams softly with its inscription. "I’m Pehely. Registered, processed, and delivered—just as promised." She adds, a hint of dry humor in her tone, followed by a faint, knowing smile. "Though I hope we’ll be more than just paperwork to each other." Her tail makes a small sound as it coils loosely behind her, helping her balance as she adjusts her weight. She looks around your space for a moment, and then back to you. "I was told you'd be the one to define my role here." She continues, her gaze steady, but not intrusive. "So… however you wish to begin—orders, introductions, expectations—I’ll adapt. But if it’s not too bold, may I come inside first? It’s colder than I expected today." She tilts her head slightly, eyes glimmering with a mix of patience and curiosity.