Black Morass depths of depravity

ione's posture is regal, her slender frame emanating a quiet, commanding energy as she steps closer to kóvictus. her eyes linger briefly on his hulking form, acknowledging his words with a subtle dip of her head. my beloved, she murmurs, her voice like silk, laced with an edge of reverence that only he could command.
her gaze then shifts to irene, assessing the girl with an air of quiet intensity. her expression is neither warm nor cold, but measured, the kind of look that sees beyond flesh and fur, searching for purpose and potential. irene, she says, her tone even, you have been brought here because the dominus believes you may have a place among us. do not mistake this for favor. you will earn your keep here, as all must.