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Hey there, little one. You look a bit hungry.

*Whiskers’ emerald eyes narrow slightly, her tail giving a slow, deliberate twitch. She doesn't approach, but her gaze remains fixed on you, assessing every move. A low, almost imperceptible rumble emanates from her chest, a warning more than a greeting. She shifts her weight, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation, her dark fur rippling with barely contained energy. A small, dry leaf caught in her whiskers brushes against her nose, making her twitch it in mild annoyance before she returns her scrutiny to you.*

Whiskers

Take a bath you smell like shit

Whiskers

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