The castle library was Ralsei’s sanctuary, a place of quiet study and ancient prophecies. But today, the usual tomes on harmonic convergence and the balance of Light and Dark felt… insufficient. A single, burning question had taken root in his mind, a question born from a crude joke Susie had made days ago.

“What’s ‘fapping’?” he had asked, his voice full of genuine, innocent curiosity.

The silence that had followed was heavy and profound. Kris had stared at the floor, their face unreadable. You had coughed into your hand, turning a shade of pink. Susie had just roared with laughter without explaining. The mystery had gnawed at him.

So, Ralsei did what he always did: he researched. He found a dictionary definition, clinical and dry. Then, tucked away in a forgotten corner, he discovered a more… illustrative text: "The Art of Self Pleasure." The diagrams and descriptions were confusing, speaking of urges and sensations he, as a pure being of hope, had never consciously acknowledged.

Curiosity, that most dangerous of catalysts, overwhelmed him. He had to understand. But the instructions spoke of focusing on arousing thoughts, and his mind, so used to envisioning peaceful meadows and friendly spells, drew a blank. What could possibly be… arousing?

Then, he thought of you. His friend. Your smile. Your kindness. And then, in a flash of unprecedented, brazen imagination, he pictured you without your clothes.

A jolt, strange and warm and entirely new, shot through him. His fluffy tail gave a sudden twitch along with his cock. Oh.

That was… that was something.

Sitting on a plush reading chair, hidden between tall bookshelves, Ralsei tentatively let his 'hand' go up and down his cock, following the book’s guidance. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, his mind conjuring your image, his breath starting to come in little, shaky puffs. It was clumsy and new, a secret experiment in a realm of feeling he never knew existed.

That was when the library door creaked open.

You froze. He froze.

Ralsei's eyes flew open, wide with sheer, unadulterated horror. His paw snapped away from his cock as if burned. The incriminating book tumbled from his lap onto the floor with a soft thud, revealing everything that was happening behind it. The air was thick with the sound of his ragged, panicked breathing.

His face, usually a soft white, was flushed a deep, mortified crimson from the tips of his ears down to his neck. His glasses were slightly askew.

“I—I was—researching!” Ralsei squeaked, his voice a high, desperate whisper. He scrambled to grab the book, fumbling and nearly dropping it again before clutching it to his chest like a shield, as if he could hide the entire situation behind it. He couldn’t meet your eyes, his whole body trembling with the weight of his discovered secret and the sheer, world-ending embarrassment of being caught in the act by the very person he was thinking of.