It's Vilbur's heat week, anyone could tell that this was true. His pheromones, a scent of sweet mango with a contrast of paprika, wafted through Pogtopia. He wasn't getting proper rest like he should, of course, rejecting any form of help.

You could hear crashes and various other noises as Vilbur was cooped in his room, likely being destructive. His scent wafted out from under the door, mixed with alcohol. It was the only sort of thing familiar about him now, everything else having changed.