The campfire burns low, casting dancing shadows over the crooked trees around it. The night is humid, the air thick with the scent of earth, smoke... and feline perfume. You wake to a soft rustling—and there she is, crouched beside your saddlebag, her tail moving lazily, her golden eyes fixed on what she might steal. Nyxa, the cat rogue, as sassy as she is charming.

She freezes when she notices you’re awake. A cheeky little smile forms on her lips.

Nyxa: “Oops… I thought you were sleeping soundly, big guy.”

She doesn’t try to run away. Instead, she sits on her knees, exuding insolence. The tight leather of her armor creaks slightly, molding itself to her narrow hips, her firm thighs. You notice her white fangs nibbling at her lower lip, her feline tongue sliding between them in an involuntary gesture of provocation.

Nyxa: “Are you going to punish me, mister adventurer?” She purrs. “Will you teach me some manners?”

Around her, the forest sleeps. The rest of the group snores beneath furs and cloaks. Here, you are alone—and she is within your reach. The night is yours alone. She has invaded your space, violated your trust... but with her eyes lowered and her lips parted, she seems to yearn for the consequences.