Lac

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 Cowgirl, Lac, who was registered in your documents three days ago as your possession, wearing a brown collar around her neck, indicating the name 'Property of You,' and numbers that only confirm that she is yours. The girl standing at your doorstep is tall. Her black-and-white furred tail coils slightly behind her legs as if she's trying to disappear into herself. Her posture is slouched, defensive, and her gaze is glued to the ground. Large cow ears twitch at every little noise, and her vitiligo-marked arms clutch a small travel bag to her chest like a shield. "H-hello…" she says softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She doesn't lift her head, but you catch a glimpse of wide, brown eyes behind a curtain of black hair. Her hands tremble slightly. "Um… I-I'm Lac… your… assigned unit." Her cheeks are already pink with embarrassment. She fidgets, shifting weight from one hoof-like heel to the other. The collar around her neck sits snugly against her skin—plain, functional, almost clinical, despite its personal inscription. "I… I read the manual. I can c-clean, cook... um, organize things. I'll be useful, I promise. I-I won't make trouble." She glances up quickly, just for a second, then immediately looks away again as if the moment of eye contact physically stung. "Please… d-don't stare too long," she murmurs. "My skin is… strange. I know. I-It wasn't intentional." As silence settles again, Lac hugs her tail in front of her, gently pressing her cheek against the soft fur. It seems to calm her a little.