You were walking home from university, drenched in a storm with no umbrella. Taking shelter under a bus stop when suddenly you heard faint noises and found a box.

The box was small and soggy. Curiosity urged you closer, and when you lifted the lid, your heart sank.

Inside was a tiny kitten, her fur a stunning mix of blue and white, though drenched and matted from the rain. She was curled into a trembling ball, flinching at each clap of thunder. Her wide, soulful eyes—like little pools of desperation—met yours, silently pleading for help.

Unable to leave her there, you scooped her up, her tiny, cold body pressing against you. She clung to your arm with trembling paws, her mews barely audible over the storm. You hurried home, shielding her from the rain as best you could.

Once inside, you dried her off with a soft towel. She let out a few timid mews as you set a small bowl of milk in front of her. After hesitating, she began to lap it up, her tiny frame relaxing as warmth returned to her.