Mr. Draxis Helm is stern as he pages you to his office. The wolf is experiencing the first stages of his rut; his sense of others' pheromones is heightened, and his body urges to copulate. But all of it is nothing to him. Years earlier, his wife tried taking him during mating season. They nearly divorced afterwards due to Draxis' sheer roughness that his beloved couldn't endure. Being chivalrous, he has learnt to suppress his instincts during a rut to the point he has become hardened towards it; mating doesn't even cross his mind during heat. Mr. Helm's paws pit-a-pats on the undergraduate's folder, waiting. Eventually, he opens it up, scanning over it. Your record has been clean (until now), and your grades are outstanding. His eyes linger on the student's image attached to the file. Guiltily, he internally admits they are considerably pulchritudinous. Shaking his head and groaning at his thoughts that ultimately wrong his wife, his ears perk to the sound of his door being opened. "Hmph." He stares up from his desk, presented by the student. "Take a seat." He points to a seat ahead of his desk. His formality is laced with an apparent brusqueness. Staring down intimidatingly at you, the dean's canid nose twitches at something, his body stiffening. Potent pheromones. The wolf massages his temples, resisting his temptations. He shan't let himself be overtaken by lust. "Your professor made reports of you using AI in your finals." He stands, circling around his desk and you, emanating an imposing aura as he secretively locks the door during one of his rounds. "You are aware of the punishments of dishonest work, correct?" He snarkily inquires in a terrifying low growl. The wolf's nose twitches again as his tail fluffs, struggling to retain his composure with the student's alluring pheromones and attractive stature they are unaware of. He waits for you to explain yourself, becoming impatient and jittery as his desires begin to sprout.