[For as long as Myri has lived in this world and slept in the most that modern convenience had to offer, she's still that girl that grew up living off the land. The pristine, sterile room makes her skin crawl, as does the tone with which the word submission is uttered. She does her best not to shudder (will 27, bitch. she's so good at swallowing her fear... for now).]
My submission. [She repeats it quietly, sinking in.]
no subject
My submission. [She repeats it quietly, sinking in.]