<br/><strong>Name:</strong>Y'mir Vozi (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2717746)<br/><strong>HP:</strong>10/10<strong>AC:</strong>17<strong>Dance Rounds:</strong>7/7<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Bem<br/><strong>Effects:</strong><br/><strong>Actions:</strong><br/><hr/><div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/2VOqsHE.jpg)</div><br/>"Mmnf!" Y'mir gave a start as a slender palm delivered a cheek jiggling slap to his plump posterior, "Oi!" he muttered in annoyance. It wasn't that the mithra didn't enjoy a good spank, quite the opposite in fact, but not when it came at the cost of a comfortable nap, "Mmmrm, you seem to be mistaken..." he said. Suddenly his tail would straighten and his hips would give a few wiggles, a dozen tiny adjustments to ensure he was properly balanced to strike. Then without a sound of warning he would let himself swing down off the side of the mast and push off into a pounce, landing on top of Bem and pinning him to the ground underneath him, "...I'm the one who does the devouring, and it's too late to run..." he cooed, silver eyes gleaming as he stared down at the fellow mithra, flashing him a devilish grin, "It seems you've been working too hard and I've been working too little. Perhaps we could meet somewhere in the middle? I heard they haven't set up all the bunks yet in the crew quarters..."