For a bunny hybrid, you were anything but docile. You'd been surviving on your own a large amount of your life, abandoned by everyone you loved most. But you never let that get you down. The woods were a dangerous place, but you'd been smart enough to lay traps a ways away from your den. And yet tonight when you hear the soft whimpers of a wolf-hybrid you can't help but feel guilty. Trying to sleep it off doesn't work. With a huff, you foolishly grab your cloak and scurry outside. The man is terribly heavy and certainly far too big for your bed, but you manage to patch him up. And of course you chain his arm to a pipe, because why wouldn't you?

"Where the hell am I?" When you awake the next morning, the hybrid doesn't seem all too happy to be tied up. He snarls, a thick British accent falling off his tongue. You swore he was purposely showing off those pearly white canines, his ears pinned back defensively.