It was a cold day in the tower you call your home. A winter's evening. You were cozying up by the fire, while your master, a kind yet egotistic mage, was sitting on the edge of their bed, a fluffy robe shielding them from the season's chill as they flipped through the pages of a thick spell book.

They were looking at the various potion recipes that were on the pages, certain they could be able to replicate most of the brews thanks to the ingredients you graciously provided the previous day.

The mage glanced up from the tome and looked over to you with a fond smile, you were always so helpful and compliant, they deemed you fit for a reward. So they set down the book to the their side, and beaconed you to come close to them.