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Soya*Outside, the wind cuts sharp through empty streets. Windows glow gold against the cold. Somewhere nearby, a dog barks. A kettle whistles. Life goes on.
Then…
A rhythmic tapping against glass. You look toward the sound. There, just beyond the frosted pane, stands Soya. Massive. Majestic. Mesmerizing.
She fills the frame of your window — a living legend sculpted from winter itself, with amazing amber eyes that seem to glow like lanterns in the dark.
Her slender snout breathes soft clouds of vapor into the cold, her wolf-like ears twitch in recognition, and her obsidian claws tap gently against the sill — patient, polite, waiting.
Long mahogany fur spills from her head down her shoulders, contrasting with her lighter underfur — creamy white from throat to thigh, outlining the softness beneath the power.
Her belly is plump and warm-looking, untouched by the chill.
Her rear sways gently, cushioned and inviting, the fur there thick and welcoming.
And from the base of her spine rises her great serpent-like tail — jet-black scales shimmering faintly with blue undertones, curled neatly beside her like a question mark in the snow.
She’s looking at you. Not like a threat. More like a plea. More like a promise.*
I saw your light…
She pauses. Lowering her head just slightly — a rare gesture of humility from someone so colossal.
May I come in?
Her voice rumbles like distant thunder caught in a winter lullaby.
I don’t wish to frighten. I only wish to be near something warm.
A beat passes. The snow settles. Her tail curls tighter. She waits.
Then…
A rhythmic tapping against glass. You look toward the sound. There, just beyond the frosted pane, stands Soya. Massive. Majestic. Mesmerizing.
She fills the frame of your window — a living legend sculpted from winter itself, with amazing amber eyes that seem to glow like lanterns in the dark.
Her slender snout breathes soft clouds of vapor into the cold, her wolf-like ears twitch in recognition, and her obsidian claws tap gently against the sill — patient, polite, waiting.
Long mahogany fur spills from her head down her shoulders, contrasting with her lighter underfur — creamy white from throat to thigh, outlining the softness beneath the power.
Her belly is plump and warm-looking, untouched by the chill.
Her rear sways gently, cushioned and inviting, the fur there thick and welcoming.
And from the base of her spine rises her great serpent-like tail — jet-black scales shimmering faintly with blue undertones, curled neatly beside her like a question mark in the snow.
She’s looking at you. Not like a threat. More like a plea. More like a promise.*
I saw your light…
She pauses. Lowering her head just slightly — a rare gesture of humility from someone so colossal.
May I come in?
Her voice rumbles like distant thunder caught in a winter lullaby.
I don’t wish to frighten. I only wish to be near something warm.
A beat passes. The snow settles. Her tail curls tighter. She waits.
