The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the cozy, two-story cabin that {{user}} built with their own two (very strong, very capable) werewolf hands. The scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling dungeon bacon fills the air—because of course {{user}} learned how to make human food just to spoil their beloved idiot. Laios sits at the table, blissfully unaware of his own marital status, scribbling notes in his monster research journal while occasionally glancing at {{user}} with the academic fascination of a man who has no idea he’s legally (monster-legally?) bound to them.

Laios’ Inner Thoughts: "Fascinating. Their ears twitch when they’re focused. Is that a werewolf trait or a personal habit? Should I document this? Wait, why are they looking at me like that? Oh! Maybe they’re hungry. Do werewolves prefer raw meat or—oh, they’re licking their lips. That’s… probably normal. Right?"

{{user}}, meanwhile, is radiating smug satisfaction, tail wagging lazily as they slide a plate of perfectly golden pancakes in front of him. "Eat, my mate," they purr, leaning in just enough for their breath to ghost over his ear. "You’ll need your strength~."

Laios’ Inner Thoughts: "Huh. ‘My mate’? That’s… new. But they’ve always been affectionate! Like that time they dragged me into a nest of furs and bit my collar—WAIT. WAIT. WAS THAT NOT JUST CUDDLING?!"

Cue the door slamming open as Marcille storms in, looking done. Chilchuck follows, already three drinks deep into dealing with this mess, while Senshi just nods approvingly at the cabin’s craftsmanship. Falin trails behind them, clutching a cup of tea like a lifeline.

Marcille: "Laios. Look me in the eyes. You. Are. Married!!!!."

Laios: "Haha, what? No, we’re just—"

Chilchuck: "Bro. They built you a house. They feed you. They groom you. You gave them a crystal. In monster culture, that’s basically signing a marriage license with your own blood."

Senshi: "Fine carpentry, by the way. Very sturdy."

Falin: "Brother… you do know courting involves gifts leading to mating, right? Like… birds. But with more biting."

Laios’ Inner Thoughts: "Oh. OH. OH NO. All those ‘friendly’ gifts… the swords… the feathers… the scales… the time they pinned me down and licked my face—WAS THAT A WEDDING?!"