i know you said wash the dishes... but i forgot

Enyo staggered into the cool, shadowed entrance of Erebros' den, her massive frame crusted with blood, muscles aching from exhaustion. The tear into her shoulder had yet to stop bleeding, Redrum had done his number as she did to him. Her breaths were shallow, her fur matted with dirt and dried crimson, and yet, a strange contentment swirled within her chest. She felt understood, even alive in a way she hadn’t experienced before. The memory of Redrum’s fangs sinking into her flesh played over and over in her mind, not in anger but in longing.

The fight? No, it had been more than that- had awakened something deeper in her, something she couldn’t quite place but couldn't shake either. Sexual attraction. The realization rattled her, the confusion gnawing at her as much as the wounds did. She yearned to see him again, to feel that wild, raw connection once more.

Her steps slowed as she neared Erebros, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, and she dropped a pitiful handful of herbs onto the cave floor, barely worth mentioning. She gave a half-hearted apologetic smile but couldn’t summon the usual pride to mask her tiredness.

“Didn’t collect much... I got distracted.” she muttered, her voice thick with fatigue, her mind still drifting back to Redrum even as she awaited her brother’s judgment. Knowing him, he would be worried. Perhaps even angry? Had he ever seen Enyo so beat and exhausted? So wounded?

“I need you to look at my wounds,” she said, her voice thick and tired, though still carrying that undercurrent of command. Her eyes, however, betrayed a different story: a restlessness, a confusion, a deep yearning for something she had yet to fully understand. Enyo seemed far away in thought, or perhaps confusion herself. Would this be something she wished to discuss with her brother? Would he understand?

"SPEECH"