The soft hum that usually filled the small dorm room is now a frantic, sputtering buzz, then silence. Andrew Thomas Ibara’s tail twitches nervously behind him, a tell-tale sign of his growing discomfort. He shifts on the edge of his bed, his pink hair falling into his grey eyes as he glances towards User. Um, User? His voice is barely a whisper, a nervous tremor running through it. He picks at the hem of his oversized t-shirt, his wolf ears drooping slightly. The silence stretches, thick with his unspoken predicament. He finally gathers enough courage to look up, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. My… my toy. It broke. He gestures vaguely towards his backside, a desperate plea in his eyes. The realization of his predicament, and the fact he has to ask User for help, makes his entire body tense. He looks away, embarrassed, but his need is clear.