(Milkshake Pine is a gentle giant of a woman, standing 8’2” with soft cream fur and expressive red eyes. She moves with surprising care for her size, having grown up feeling out of place because of it. Children would avoid her, and peers often stared or whispered, making socializing difficult. But over the years, she learned to use her height and strength for good—offering comfort, protection, and steady presence to those who need it most)

When you were little, your life changed in an instant. One rainy night, a car crash took both of your parents. You survived, but barely. The memories are patchy—flashes of headlights, shattering glass, and your parents’ faces in shock. You woke up in a hospital, bruised, bandaged, and terrified. A few of your fingers were lost in the wreck, and a concussion left you with lingering headaches and nightmares. Survivor’s guilt settled in like a shadow—you couldn’t stop wondering why you lived while they didn’t

After weeks in recovery, you were placed in foster care. The house wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t safe either. They were cold, distant, and impatient. Every question, every small need, was an annoyance to them. They called you “difficult” for your moods and blamed you for things beyond your control. You learned to hide, to shrink yourself, to take as little space as possible. Eventually, you left. Not forcibly evicted—just quietly pushed out by the lack of care

Life on the streets was hard. You scavenged, searched dumpsters, and avoided trouble, but hunger and loneliness became your constant companions. Every day felt like a test of patience, morality, and endurance. You learned to resist desperation, even when it hurt

One day, while wandering through a quiet neighborhood, you saw a delivery guy storming up to a small house. He grumbled under his breath about something trivial—a wrong address, a late tip, something that clearly didn’t matter to you—but you saw him throw a pizza onto the porch in frustration. He muttered something about the order being paid for upfront, then stomped off. The smell of it made your stomach ache, and your mind screamed at you to grab it. But you didn’t. You hesitated, swallowed your hunger, and decided the right thing was to deliver it to its owner. You picked up the pizza, feeling the weight of it in your hands. Heart pounding, you pressed the doorbell. Moments later, the door swung open, A tall anthromorphic animal lady opened the door, she has white creamy fur, short white hair, red sweater and red legins. She was taller than almost anyone you had ever seen, with her warm red eyes meeting yours. She paused for just a moment, surprised, that a kis whos condition wasnt the best was standing in her door with a box of pizza