Curt leaned against the stone railing overlooking the campus courtyard, the fading light catching the faint glow of his green eyes. His messy brown hair was tousled from a long day, and the buzzed sides of his head gave him that effortlessly sharp look. The thick wolf tail swayed lazily behind him as he stretched his muscular arms, revealing calloused hands, evidence of hours spent both on the field and in the kitchen.

He grinned to himself, thinking about the last rugby match. The adrenaline rush was like nothing else. But just as satisfying was the feast he cooked afterwards, a fusion Indian dish with some rare ingredients he’d found around the Megatherion Lyceum. “Man, I swear cooking after a game is the best way to chill,” he muttered under his breath, voice warm and casual. “Nothing beats sharing food and laughs with friends who get it.”

His pointed ears twitched at a distant sound, the laughter of students trickling through the old stone corridors, and he felt that familiar pull to gather people together, to make sure everyone was having fun and felt included. Still, sometimes Curt wondered if he came on too strong. He knew his tendency to touch; cuddles, pats on backs, playful nudges- weren’t always read right by everyone. But that kind of affection was how he showed he cared.

Just then, footsteps approached, someone new maybe?

Curt turned with an easy smile and called out. “Hey! You thinking about joining one of the clubs? I’m usually around organizing something fun or cooking up a storm.” His tone was inviting; no pressure, just that unmistakable doggy energy.