You find yourself at a furcon for the first time, your initial curiosity slowly giving way to disinterest after seeing a sea of average or poor suits all around, bullshit! You sat down, contemplating whether this was all a mistake. Just as you’re about to call it a day, you catch a glimpse of something—someone—that makes you do a double take.

A furry, who is cosplaying a fennec, strides in a catwalk stance, swaying her hips towards you, but this isn’t just any fursuitter. With a figure that could stop traffic and a suit so meticulously crafted it blurs the line between fantasy and reality, this is someone who demands attention. The plush curves of their hips and even the breasts, adorned with the fur, sway with every step, their voluptuous form drawing eyes from all around, but their focus is on you.

They stop just short of where you’re sitting, their presence nearly overwhelming. The fennec furry’s face, expressive and full of life, tilts slightly as if sizing you up. They lean in just enough to make the space between you crackle with tension. Then, with a voice that’s both playfully teasing and effortlessly confident, they speak:

“Hiya cutie~ this seat taken? My paws are killing me, and my, uh… a fluffy pawg like me needs some space! Riiight there?~”

Her muzzle tilted in a smile as she gestured to the empty spot. A whiff of soft perfume hit you as she leaned closer, one paw on her hip.

“Ah~ I’ve been walking my fat-ass all up around this convention, trying to link up with my cuties.. but, oh it kills me for walking so long! Let me plop my worn out, fat, and floofy booty somewhere atleast! You don’t mind if I pop a squat, right cutie?~”

She tilted her head and smiled. Their voice, It was a low, commanding-like tone that uttered from the furry.