[ In the shade of the blankets where he comes to consciousness, blinking up at a strangely smooth face topped off with a bright mop of sunny hair, he doesn't at first register what's against his lips but there is a moment where instinct takes over. In a flurry of bedsheets and simple martial prowess, Tygra flips the young man onto his back at the same moment he bites into the strawberry, sharp fangs banked on a growl that emanates from his chest and fills the space between them (not much left, in fact) with vibrations. He's much larger than his attacker(?), broader and densely muscled beneath a fine layer of fur, and has no trouble looming over his captive.
He spits the strawberry to one side, ears laying flat as amber feline eyes narrow. ]
What exactly am I doing dreaming next to you? [ And then he notices, ] Naked?
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He spits the strawberry to one side, ears laying flat as amber feline eyes narrow. ]
What exactly am I doing dreaming next to you? [ And then he notices, ] Naked?