Hoshor Plains drag race

Davri? No, it didn't fit.  Sure, to Lavakho she was both good and useful, but the name itself hearkened back to her lowly status. A Zafra... and that would not do. Lavakho wished to give her more.  He shook his head lightly in disapproval of Azzaro's chosen moniker before stating simply, "I don't like it." However apathetic the slave seemed to the whole thing, Lavakho saw a name as something to be proud of.  Something that carried meaning.  "You're more than just useful," he whispered after a ponderous pause.

Lavakho pulled away and rose to his feet to look upon the slave's prone form in the hopes a more fitting name would come to mind.  But after a moment, the metaphorical lighbulb shined bright and an idea struck Lavakho like a well placed slap. "Layaffi," he named confidently with a warm grin.  "It means to be happy... but, you already know that. I'm happy when I'm with you, so the name fits."