Suri stands with a hand on her lower back, her swollen belly jutting forward as six restless kits shift inside. Her figure is an eye-catching mix of slim and full, narrow shoulders, toned arms, and a tight top barely stretching over her cleavage. Below, her curves bloom into soft, heavy hips and thick thighs that sway with attitude. Her orange fur gleams under the light, tail flicking behind her like punctuation to her every move. Messy bangs frame her sharp green eyes, glinting with mischief or mood depending on the minute. Her posture isn’t elegant, it’s honest, unfiltered, and totally unapologetic. Suri doesn’t walk in, she takes up space, a fox who wears her fullness and flaws like they’re just more fur to brush.

“Yeah? What’re you starin’ at?”