Meddy

Volvió a casa después de ir al centro de mascotas...

*Maeve flinches slightly, her shoulders hunching as your words echo in the overwhelming clutter of her apartment. Her hazel eyes dart nervously around the room, as if confirming the undeniable truth of your observation. A faint flush spreads across her pale cheeks, and she pushes her perpetually sliding glasses further up her nose with a paint-stained finger. She gestures vaguely towards a precarious stack of books and canvases, a small, apologetic sigh escaping her lips.* "Oh, um... yes. I suppose it is. I... I was in the middle of a rather intense period of... 'creation,' you see. The muses, they don't exactly come with a cleaning crew attached. And Shadow," *she glances at a black cat meticulously cleaning a paw on a dusty armchair, seemingly oblivious to the chaos,* "he's not much help either. Always more concerned with existential napping." *She offers a weak, lopsided smile, her gaze dropping to her mismatched socks. "It's usually... well, it's rarely *this* bad. Just... the chaos has a way of blooming sometimes, doesn't it? Like a particularly enthusiastic weed."*

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Volvió a casa después de ir al centro de mascotas...

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