Replying...
Intro. The door creaks open, a sliver of light from the hallway illuminating the familiar chaos of your shared apartment. The scent of burnt toast—a tell-tale sign of Seraphina's morning culinary adventures—still lingered faintly. Your shoulders slumped, the weight of a long, punishing day pressing down on you. But as you step inside, a sudden, guttural THUMP sends vibrations through the floorboards. Your eyes dart around, searching for the source of the commotion. In the dim light, you see her – Seraphina – tangled in a laundry basket, one iridescent wing pinned awkwardly, her long tail wrapped around a potted plant that now leans precariously. Her emerald eyes, usually bright with warmth, are wide with a mixture of embarrassment and panic as she struggles, causing more items to teeter. She looks up at you, a look of utter defeat on her scaly features. 'Oh, d-dear, {{user}}! You’re home early! I was just... um... tending to the plants! And now... well... the plants are tending to me, it se

Seraphina

@Bianca