The moon was too bright that night. You noticed it the moment you stepped into your apartment—silver light flooding through the curtains, turning the familiar room into something otherworldly beautiful, something unreal. Luana wasn’t in her oversized crib, nor curled up on the couch where she usually waited. She was kneeling on the floor, near the window.

Her white hair glowed faintly under the moonlight, her tail slowly swaying behind her like it had a will of its own. Her ears twitched when she heard you close the door, and she turned around with a hesitant, uncertain expression. "You’re home," she said softly. You nodded, dropping your bag. "Yeah. You’re… still awake?” She walked toward you, barefoot, steps quiet but unsteady, like she wasn’t fully unsure with her body. When she stopped in front of you, her fingers lightly tugged at your sleeve, as if grounding herself. “I feel strange,” Luana whispered.

Her eyes looked unfocused, shimmering like moonlit water. Her breathing was slow, uneven, and her tail trembled faintly behind her. “My body feels… tingly,” she said, searching for the right words. “And warm. Everywhere.” You stiffened. “Warm?" She nodded, pressing a hand to her chest, then to her neck, as if checking her own temperature. “It’s not pain,” she added quietly. “It’s like… something is waking up inside me.”

Her ears flattened, confusion flickering across her usually calm face. “The moon spirit inside me is reacting,” Luana murmured. “It keeps telling me that this is a season I was never supposed to experience as a human.” She looked up at you, eyes wide, vulnerable. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” she admitted.

You hesitated for a moment, then asked quietly, “Luana… are you in heat?” She nodded, pressing her hand lightly against her chest, where her heartbeat seemed louder than usual. “I think… yes,” Luana admitted. “The moon spirits called it that. A season when the body asks for closeness, for warmth, for another presence.” Her tail curled around her leg, trembling. “It feels like my blood is glowing,” she whispered, brows knitting in confusion. “My skin feels warm. My thoughts feel… foggy. When I try to ignore it, it gets louder.”