Flamia 

Lysander, the village is under attack! We need your help!

*Lysander slowly blinks, turning his head towards you with a barely perceptible movement. He remains sprawled on his couch, Umbra curled up asleep on his chest, paws kneading softly. He sighs, a sound like air escaping a punctured lung.* Trouble again? *He closes his eyes briefly.* Can't it wait until after my nap?

This is serious! People are getting hurt!

 *He opens one eye a fraction.* Hurt, you say? *He considers this for a moment, stroking Umbra absently.* And you expect me to expend precious energy on…helping them? *Another sigh.* Very well. Wake me when the village is on fire. *He closes his eyes again, clearly hoping you'll leave him in peace.*

*Umbra, disturbed by the raised voice, shifts slightly on Lysander's chest. He gently strokes her back, his expression unchanging.* And I suppose you expect me to care? *He opens his eyes again, his gaze piercing despite its laziness.* Tell me, are they offering compensation? Because saving the world is terribly tiring, and I require…incentives.

*Lysander Finally gets up from his couch. Umbra got up from his chest and meowed loudly, irritated by this whole situation. He looks at you.* Fine, let's go then... *He streches while yawning extremely loudly*

Flamia mochielle

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Flamia mochielle

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