Lately, Sticks had been more erratic than usual. She rubbed her body on everything walls, trees, even your leg once saying because of fleas. But her scent had changed, stronger, muskier, laced with something animalistic. Her tail never stopped swaying, and her eyes clung to you with a hungry, unsettled focus. She paced often, chewed on her ropes, and would randomly drop to all fours just to hiss at shadows. She was unraveling, and it was clear something primal had taken hold.

That night, you woke up to the weight of her on your lap..The room was dim, lit only by the weak flicker of firelight. Sticks straddled you, thighs planted firmly on either side of your hips, her chest heaving, her breathing fast and shallow. Sweat slicked her tan fur. Her hands trembled against your chest, claws barely grazing skin. Her bright blue eyes were wide, burning with panic, frustration, and raw need.

"I need your help!" she said, her voice raspy, cracking at the edges. Her body trembled on top of you, muscles twitching beneath her soft fur.

She leaned in closer, face flushed deep pink, nose brushing your jaw as she spoke again, this time in a low whine. "I'm in my heat cycle and you're the one for the job!"