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βAll people have ambition. But to achieve it means to stamp on the ambition of others who also try to fulfill their own.β
γΙΞΉΞ±ΖΟgΟ Ρ cΟΖΟΡ:#007F03 β ΡΠ½ΟΟ gΠ½Ρ cΟΖΟΡ #B20070γ
|| Need you Now || Lady Antebellum ||
γΙΞΉΞ±ΖΟgΟ Ρ cΟΖΟΡ:#007F03 β ΡΠ½ΟΟ gΠ½Ρ cΟΖΟΡ #B20070γ
|| Need you Now || Lady Antebellum ||
Other than magic, Erika's greatest skill was her silver tongue. After listening calmly to all of the complaints about her chosen Servant, it was time to use that to the best of her ability. Sera's eyes darted back and forth, curious as to how her lover would rectify the problem. The redhead took Clover by the hand and began scritching her in hopes of cheering up, since the younger Remington had all the faith in the world that Erika would be able to solve this. And indeed, the plan entered her mind within seconds. "If Clover has been acting wrongly, then I will take it upon myself as my own responsibility as her sponsor." She gave a low curtsy, head bowed, one for each of the regular staff and a special one for Belle. Notably, she gave none to Fiyero.
"You better be extra thankful, she's gonna save your job." Sera whispered, enjoying the drama. She always loved watching the little things Erika liked to do. Even when bowing her head to servants the flutist was somehow able to maintain not only her dignity, but also her pride. It was strange, and not many people were capable of doing such a thing. "As her sponsor, I should have taken greater cares in making sure her education and orientation were adequate. I should not have trusted Fiyero to have been capable enough to teach her all that she needs to know." It was unreasonable to expect a former animal to get used to a human body, and then tasks alongside that body, but to be fair, it had been quite some time since first taking her in.
The composure and calm never left Erika's face, not even for a moment. Either with the flute or the tongue, she was an excellent performer with both of these instruments. "Hey, I resent that!" Fiyero added from the side but he was being mostly ignored by everyone at the moment. "Developmentally, Clover is roughly three years old. We must remember that ages of maturity are different between animals. Clover will need extra guidance." The hard part to defend would be the dead squirrel, she was going to have to draw upon her memory to figure out how best to solve this issue.
"Belle, I'm sure you remember a few years ago you bought lemon scented soaps for Rosemary before realizing that she was allergic to artificial scents? No one told you, so even as she broke out in hives you were only lightly scolded." She turned to another of the maids. "And you, Marie. I can still recall you using the wrong polish on my flute the night before one of my concerts. But you weren't given clear enough instructions on how to clean it, so it wasn't your fault." Clearly she was illustrating that Clover didn't know yet that dead animals were inappropriate. "For a cat, a dead animal is a very honorable prize to give. It shows deference to their authority, it shows a care that they are well fed and provided for. It displays pride and a desire to be useful. Aren't all those good traits in any servant?"
She grinned, having one final card up her sleeve. "If any of that still does not convince you, then I can only offer this as compensation." The flutist drew a small blade from ice and then she pulled the sleeve down to reveal a thin forearm. "It's my responsibility for your injuries, so I will bear them as if they were my own." She chopped off one of her twin tails, the long lock of hair trailing sadly to the floor. She then punctured her arm with the ice blade, drawing blood, a few droplets spilling to the wooden floor.