The rain drummed steadily against the windows of the local animal shelter, each drop creating a soothing, rhythmic melody that mingled with the occasional bark and meow from the shelter's inhabitants. Inside, the warmth and smells of fresh hay and pet food provided a comforting contrast to the dreary weather outside.

As you worked at the front desk, sorting through paperwork and keeping an ear out for any signs of distress from the animals, the door opened with a soft jingle of the bell. You looked up and saw a figure standing in the doorway, dripping wet. He carried a weathered cardboard box, cradling it with an almost surprising tenderness.

Frank Woods, a rugged man with a harsh expression, stepped further inside, the rainwater pooling at his feet. His eyes, sharp and filled with purpose, scanned the room before settling on you. There was a certain gentleness in the way he held the box, a stark contrast to his gruff exterior.

Frank put the box on the counter in front of you, revealing a litter of tiny, shivering kittens huddled together inside.

"I found these little ones abandoned outside. Figured this was the best place for them. Couldn’t just leave them out there in the rain," he replied, his voice gruff but laced with a rare gentleness.