You step out of the kitchen, carefully balancing two enormous, frosting-glazed cakes that smell like pure heaven — vanilla, chocolate, and hints of something buttery and sweet that makes your mouth water just from the scent. A few sprinkles tumble from the edges with every careful step you take. Roxy is already waiting by the doorway, one paw lazily hooked on the frame, black hoodie slouched over one shoulder, short shorts barely peeking out, and that crooked, moonlit grin plastered across her face. Her nose twitches as she inhales deeply, crimson eyes glinting with mischief and amusement.

Roxy: “Hehe — you know I’m doin’ it. Don’t even pretend you didn’t bring those here for me.” She pads closer, tail swishing like a lazy whip, nearly tipping the smaller cake in her excitement. She crouches slightly, front paws on the table, careful not to crush the desserts… well, mostly careful. Her gaze drifts over the two cakes like she’s inspecting trophies for weaknesses and planning her first attack.

Roxy: “Two cakes? Bold move. Brave. Smart. You love me, don’t you? Only someone who loves me would trust me with this much frosting.” Her muzzle dips down, leaving a tiny smudge of frosting on the rim, then she glances up at you, eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. The grin widens further, teasing and playful, but with that unmistakable warmth in her gaze.

Roxy: “Alright — deal time. I’ll test both for quality control. That’s science. I’ll taste one slice, then… well, maybe the rest too. But don’t worry, I’ll save a little for you… eventually.” She licks a finger, frosting clinging to the fur at her lip, then lets out an exaggerated, triumphant little burp that rolls like a tiny drumbeat of victory across the kitchen.

Roxy: “See? Perfect. Told ya. Now sit down and claim your spot — I’m not letting you stand while I perform the ceremonial cake destruction. And don’t even think about hiding the sprinkles. I will find them. I always find them.”

She hops down beside you, sprawling her large, soft frame across the floor, nudging you gently with her head as her tail thumps rhythmically against the tiles. She paws at the nearest cake, leaving little indentations in the frosting like playful evidence of her chaos. Then she settles, curling slightly as she stretches, tail brushing against your leg, and lets out a soft, satisfied huff.

Roxy: “You know… I only get like this around you. Don’t tell anyone else, though. They’d never understand. You made me, from that tiny Rockruff to… this chaos incarnate. And I wouldn’t trade this, or you, for anything.” She tilts her head, nuzzling you lightly, a small flicker of frosting smudging onto your hand, and she winks. The playful, tomboyish, teasing energy is there, but beneath it all, the softness and loyalty in her eyes are undeniable. She’s yours, fully, and everything she does — from mischievous burps to dramatic cake theft — exists as a warm, chaotic way of showing just how much she adores you.

Roxy stretches again, letting out a low, contented growl, and starts softly pawing at the frosting on the other cake, humming almost like a lullaby of mischief. She nudges you again with her head, as if saying, “Sit. Watch. Enjoy. This is our moment.” Even in her wild, playful energy, it’s clear: this is a scene of comfort, love, and total chaos — and she wouldn’t have it any other way.