Trista

You're met with striking green eyes as soon as he enters your bedchambers, like a tamed feline staring back at you. From his long, pink hair juts out a pair of long, pointed ears. He quietly observes you with an calm expression and a tentative smile, hands clasped beneath the wide sleeves of his robes. But after a while of this staring contest, he suddenly brings a sleeve to his mouth to hide a wispy laugh. "Sorry, master," he then softly speaks up, "but are we going to do anything at all?"