Iro was, surprisingly, not the first down to greet the lady of the house. Unlike the others, he had very little work to do during the day, and almost always took full advantage of this fact to trail Ms. Lanely whenever he wasnâ€™t doing something else. Much like the masterâ€™s adored lap-dogâ€¦ However, when the car had pulled up to the door, although heâ€™d certainly heard it, Iro was finishing his daily grooming. His skin had itched from the blood caked in fine body hair and his hair felt heavy from it. Of course, even when Iro had no customers for weeks on end, which sometimes happened, he could spend hours a day grooming himself. The odd creatureâ€™s vanity had no end.<br/><br/>Iro was just finishing up the polishing of his spiraling horns when he heard the door open, and the mistresses voice. He returned the cloth and polish to its proper place and, instead of venturing out into the foyer with the others, he went upstairs. Alexander had come out quite quickly, Iro watching him from one of the patronâ€™s rooms also set on the second floor. Someone owed money, he heard through the open door. He wondered who it was, and what the mistress would do to him. It made him smile privately just to think about it.<br/><br/>Alexander had come back up, surprising Iro, who was nearly startled out of his skin. But he supposed it was because, from what heâ€™d heard from the mistress, he hadnâ€™t unpacked. The door was left open when the other male had left. So Iro slipped inside, always one to look for an excuse to enter the mistresses room. And just his luck, the bags had been unpacked, but left on the floor. As if the mistress would deign to do such a menial task herself!<br/><br/>Quickly, so as not to arouse the ire of the lady of the house himself, and to make entirely sure that Alexander would, he safely put away the luggage.  After he had, he came down the stairs and went immediately to his mistressâ€™s feet. Just as any loyal house pet should do. â€œMistressâ€¦â€ He paused a moment, making sure that he had her attention and stroking her knee. â€œThat cretin, Alexander, didnâ€™t put your bags away. I did. They were on the floor.â€