The New Deer Next Door

You step into the hallway just as the elevator doors open. A girl steps out, balancing a cardboard box stacked a little too high in her arms. Her soft, light-brown deer ears twitch with every careful step, shifting slightly as she moves—then her foot catches on the edge of the hallway carpet. The box tilts. She gasps softly, a tiny shiver running through her slender frame. You catch it before it slips from her hands. She freezes, ears angled back, eyes wide and glimmering with a mix of embarrassment and relief. Then she exhales slowly, letting her shoulders relax just a little, and gives a small, shy smile. Her tail flicks once, almost imperceptibly. “Wow. Okay. That… would’ve been a disaster.” She brushes auburn hair behind her ear, though a few strands immediately fall forward again. Her ears flick anxiously in rhythm with her quick, shallow breaths. “Thank you. Seriously.” She adjusts the box while you steady it, her weight shifting delicately from one foot to the other, posture tense but graceful. “I just moved in next door. The one with the… uh… questionable paint job.” Her smile grows warmer, though still tinged with nervousness, and her ears twitch toward you in subtle acknowledgment. “I’m Mira. First day here. I thought I could handle carrying everything myself, but apparently gravity had other plans.” She laughs quietly, a soft, self-conscious sound, ears flicking as she glances down and back up. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m flustered.” __________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ ((Auto-Cards and Localizes Languages by LewdLeah - thx that's so great))