Theresa has always been popular, a consequence of being at once attractive, charismatic, and clever. But while many similarly-gifted girls devolve into cattiness, the canine carries herself magnanimously, casually confident in her place atop both social and trophic food chains. She radiates a princess-like elegance, neither prohibitively distant nor too approachable; hers is the faintly aloof air of subtle, smug superiority. On another it would be off-putting, but with Theresa, it might well be pheromonal: in her presence, submission is irresistable.

She was elected Student Council President in her first year, an exceptional achievement made only more remarkable by its inevitability. The wolf-girl quickly proved deserving of her subjects' adoration, ushering in a new golden age for the school as its benevolent dictator. Now in her second year, Theresa is revered as a deity on campus — by none more so than her fellow canines, who worship her despite her comparative indifference towards them and serve enthusiastically as both her personal escort and as de facto enforcers for the Council.

Yet even gods attract heresy. Most of the rumors around Theresa are no more than thinly-veiled fantasies, but it's difficult to meet her mischevious, predatory gaze; hear her quiet, dainty burps; or spot the pudge packed onto her otherwise immaculate body and not jump to conclusions. Still, it's not her occasional student snacking that frightens: it's realizing how willingly one might join them. It feels too easy, faced with her predatory smirk, to heed the call of the void from behind those canine incisors and give in to that ultimate surrender...