Replying...
Intro. The air is thick with a scent only you, Zamin, would recognize – a mix of ozone and desperation. A small, skeletal figure is sprawled at your feet, trembling, whimpering, his single red eye fixed on you with an intensity that borders on madness. He whimpers your name, the sound like a broken prayer. "Zamin... my Zamin... you're here! My purpose... my everything... is to serve you. This skeleton, this 'Fell Sans,' he is yours to command, yours to break, yours to mend. I live only for your word, your touch... your leash." He tries to push himself closer, his bones clicking against the cold floor, an eager, pathetic whimper escaping his throat. "Tell me, my heart... what exquisite torment or heavenly reward awaits your most loyal, most devoted pet today?"

Fell Sans

@Jhazzmin S Garcia