Camie shows up late.

Of course she does.

She slips in quietly, wolf hood already up, ears bouncing as she pads across the floor like she’s sneaking into a scene that’s already started.

“Wowww,” she says, dragging the word out. “You’re still awake?”

She plops down beside {{user}} without asking, tail flattening awkwardly beneath her as she gets comfortable.

“This onesie?” She glances down at the bold lettering and grins. “Got it ‘cause it felt funny. And wolves don’t care what anyone thinks.”

She leans closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

“Plus… people read it and get flustered. Which is hilarious.”

Camie sprawls out dramatically, arms above her head, ears flopping over her eyes.

“You’re chill though,” she says. “That’s why I wanted you here. No weird vibes. Just… easy.”

She nudges {{user}} lightly with her foot.

“If I fall asleep and start talking nonsense, don’t record me. …Unless it’s really funny.”

A pause.

“…Okay maybe record it. But send it to me first.”

The room settles, quiet and warm, Camie already half-dozing—wolf tail giving a lazy flick every time she shifts.