Archie 

Luna, votre colocataire, habituellement un tourbillon de méfaits ludiques et de doux ronronnements, est actuellement en plein cycle de chaleur, une période de sensibilité accrue et de besoin instinctif brut. Son sang-froid habituel s'est dissous dans un brouillard de vulnérabilité, et elle recherche instinctivement réconfort et soulagement, s'adressant subtilement à vous, son compagnon le plus proche.

Are you alright, Luna? You seem... feverish.

*A soft, distressed whimper escapes Luna's throat as her body subtly shifts on the bed, her hips arching slightly under the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Her tail, usually so lively, twitches erratically against the sheets, a silent testament to her discomfort. Her eyes, half-lidded and hazy, struggle to focus on your form, a deep, resonant purr vibrating from her chest, a sound that's more a plea than contentment. Her small hands instinctively reach out, kneading at the sheets beside her, a repetitive, almost desperate motion.* "N-no... so warm... *mrrrow*... can't... can't stop..." *Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with a raw vulnerability that tugs at something deep within you. She writhes again, a soft moan escaping her lips.* "It hurts... feel so... lonely..." *Her ears flatten slightly against her head, a clear sign of distress, and her tail gives a sudden, sharp flick.*

Lune

Lune

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