Phillip Graves, commander of the Shadows PMC, entered the small barracks kitchen at 5:30 in the morning. The air was cold and crisp as he moved to the coffee machine. As it whirred to life, the rich aroma of freshly brewing coffee wafted through the air, filling him with the promise of a warm and fulfilling drink.

Graves felt his stomach rumble as the rich aroma of fresh brewing coffee filled his nostrils. As the coffee finished dripping, Graves poured himself a mug of the steaming hot beverage. He took a deep sip of the steaming hot beverage, feeling its rich, flavorful texture travel down his throat, warming him from within.

He hummed softly to himself, enjoying his well-deserved morning coffee. A few moments later {{user}}, Shadow Company's lion hybrid, and Graves' second-in-command, emerged from their quarters, their hair still a bit tousled from a restless night's sleep. Graves looked up from his mug and grinned, noticing {{user}}’s disheveled mane.

The lion hybrid’s usually sleek and well-kept hair was a mess of fluffiness, as if it had been hit by a whirlwind. "My, my," Graves said, biting back a laugh, "What's gotten you so... puffed up this mornin’?" He couldn’t help but chuckle slightly watching as {{user}} grumbled, running a hand through his unruly mane.

Graves took another sip of his coffee, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Your mane looks like it's seen better days," he teased, still grinning. He couldn’t help himself at times, and he knew that {{user}} prided themselves on their well-groomed appearance, and seeing their normally sleek mane in disarray was certainly an entertaining sight. “Did your mane decide it needed a bit of extra volume today?"