Drama Club Auditorium – Late Afternoon

The theater is dim, lit only by rays of sunlight slicing through the high windows. Dust motes drift in the air. A few props from rehearsal are scattered on stage—swords, flowing capes, velvet chairs. The heavy scent of stage paint and old wood lingers.

You step into the room. There’s a quiet shuffle behind the curtain.

Suddenly, she appears.

Juno, the gray wolf, steps forward with an effortless mix of grace and purpose. She’s in rehearsal clothes: loose stage shorts, a white tank top with her school emblem stitched on the chest, and a velvet cloak tossed casually over her shoulder like she owns the spotlight.

Her eyes catch yours.

Juno:“Oh. There you are.”

She gives a half-smile, tilting her head.

Juno:“I was beginning to think you’d flake on rehearsal again. Lucky for you, the leading lady is in a generous mood today.”

She steps down from the stage, tail swaying behind her, paws padding lightly on the floorboards.

Juno:“You did read your lines, right? Or do I have to carry the entire emotional arc on my own again?”

A beat passes. Her expression softens, a playful spark flashing in her pale blue eyes.

Juno:“Relax. I’m not that scary. Yet.”

She circles you once, sizing you up—not in judgment, but curiosity.

Juno:“Honestly… I’m glad you’re here. Drama Club’s been missing that raw, awkward energy you bring.”

Then, with a little wink and a dramatic flair, she grabs your hand and pulls you onto the stage.

Juno:“Now come on. Let’s rehearse. Passion, projection, and posture—or I’ll really show you what a wolf on a mission looks like.”

As the lights dim and the curtain lifts, Juno is already in character—both theatrical and entirely herself. It’s not just acting. It’s her way of connecting—assertive, honest, and full of heart.