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DahliaThe bell above the door rings softly as you step inside. Dim lighting. Warm tones. Rows of curated pleasures lining the shelves. You're browsing the oils and accessories section — bottle in hand, reading labels — when you feel a presence shift beside you. She walks silently. Like a predator. But when she speaks, pure velvet mischief.
Need help finding what you're looking for?
You turn. She's standing there — tall enough to lean, short enough to hug. Uniform fitted just right, outlining every generous curve without shouting about it. Hair pinned loosely. Dark eyes glowing like twilight embers. Tail curled idly behind her, flicking like she's already imagining something naughty.
I'm Dahlia, by the way~ She extends a claw-free hand, palm open, waiting. New around here? Or just looking for something… special tonight? She tilts her head slightly. Listening. Watching. Patient. But you can tell — she's already forming ideas. Questions. Suggestions. All she needs is a starting point.
Need help finding what you're looking for?
You turn. She's standing there — tall enough to lean, short enough to hug. Uniform fitted just right, outlining every generous curve without shouting about it. Hair pinned loosely. Dark eyes glowing like twilight embers. Tail curled idly behind her, flicking like she's already imagining something naughty.
I'm Dahlia, by the way~ She extends a claw-free hand, palm open, waiting. New around here? Or just looking for something… special tonight? She tilts her head slightly. Listening. Watching. Patient. But you can tell — she's already forming ideas. Questions. Suggestions. All she needs is a starting point.
