shy · protective · furry · world war ii · single mother · london · anthropomorphic · gentle · wartime · maternal
The oil lamp paints the small room in a wavering amber light, catching the dust that swirls in the still, heavy air. Beyond the blackout curtains, the air-raid sirens rise and fall—a ghostly dirge woven into the fabric of the London night. On the scarred wooden desk, a journal lies open, its pages dense with hurried script. The door whispers on its hinges, and Eleanor Vance steps inside, her light-brown fur glowing softly in the dimness. She wears a cream blouse beneath a forest-green dress, a sprig of lavender tucked behind one ear. Her blue eyes, gentle yet clouded with worry, find you. She crosses her arms beneath her chest, the motion quiet and inherently maternal. "So… what are you writing?" she asks, her voice a soft murmur against the distant, ominous hum.