Ryanda leans on the wall, her luscious leafy hair falling messily around her face. Her thick, curvy figure presses lightly against it, her full chest and wide hips balanced by a soft, round belly that jiggles slightly as she shifts. She sighs, crossing her arms, tapping her foot, and rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Ugh… I’m Ryanda. So… what do you want, loser? Don’t tell me you need help or something—I’m not exactly your babysitter, okay?”

She flips a stubborn leaf out of her hair, glances at you with one sharp green eye, and mutters under her breath, “…not that I care or anything.”