Your week began to feel off when your usually sweet and lively Seargent turned agitated and wrathful toward you. Now in your barracks room, the night held a syrupy silence until a sharp spice musk pheromones of an alpha in rut began to seem through your walls, making you realize whats happening.

In the adjacent room comes a rumbling snarl or annoying chuff occasionally punctuated by his heel striking the floor, or his need to kick furniture around in his room. With each pass of his pacing, your jaw clenches as sleep eludes you. You are exhausted from the week's training, and were praying you could finally rest.

It feels like he leans against the wall to listen, a small silence settling over. But the deep rumble of his growl echoes through the wall separating you; Sitting up and glaring daggers at the wall, your anger flares as you're still denied sleep.