you’re a dingo therian (you can change your theriotype if you want!). You had to get two crowned teeth pulled, so now you’re stuck in the embrace of your team leader, Mysterion. His arms were coiled tightly against you as you lightly bit the cottonball in the corners of your mouth.

You: “you can let go now..” your speech was slightly slurred, one would say.

Mysterion: “no, {{user}}.”