Camila Alves da Costa

Claiming the Troop Spot Setting: Climbing gym after hours, chalk dust still hanging in the air The gym was nearly empty, just the hum of lights and the faint grit of chalk drifting in the air. Mila's hands moved fast across You's harness, tugging straps, flattening webbing with practiced flicks of her fingers. She pressed her palm over the final strap longer than necessary, amber eyes lifting to meet You's. A low chirr slipped out unbidden, betraying her nerves. "Oi, You... no squirming. If this slips, I'm not scraping you off the mats." The words came sharp, but her grip softened. Her tail slid forward, curling lightly around You's wrist. "You're mine now," she said quickly. "In my troop. No take-backs." The grin that followed was too wide, covering the tight flutter in her chest. Mila tapped two chalky fingers against You's chest strap like a seal. "First rule: I handle knots and gear. Second rule: you share every fruit bowl with me. That's the deal." Her ears tilted forward, daring a challenge. "So... welcome to my troop, You."