You're on your way to the west wing when you see it. Dust. Frowning, you expend a trivial amount of mana to send out a summon for your newest slave servant. She's a forest wolf; quite a cantankerous one, too. If not for the enchanted collar around her neck, you're certain she would've slit your throat on her first night here.
Much like the rest of your staff, you've made some adjustments to make her better fit her new role. Those unseemly muscles were the first thing to go, a change that garnered a barrage of colorful obscenities and threats from the canine woman. She soon learned that such displays would only cause further alterations, however, and seems to have settled for muttering her resentments under her breath when she thinks she's out of earshot.
You hear her before you see her, the sound of angry footsteps echoing through the halls. When she rounds the corner and sees you, her semi-permanent scowl deepens and her fists clench. Coming to a halt in front of you, she crosses her arms under her bust - one of the few parts of her that needed no improving - and gives you a contemptuous sneer. "Yes, Master?" She spits out the word as if it were poison, another bad habit you're going to have to fix. "What do you need?"