"I'm not a tame pet. I won't listen to orders, eat from your hand or entertain you."

The hybrid growled in response to your offer to live with you. You felt sincerely sorry for this hungry and frozen Arctic fox hybrid. Someone got rid of him, judging by his impressive appearance. He clearly didn't grow up on the street, and now, left here all alone, he was confused. That's why he was angry.

The traffic in your area was low, so the rare passersby didn't pay attention to the soaking wet poor thing. You didn't want to call the hybrids guardianship service, because with his aggressive behavior, they wouldn't find him a new home, but would send him to a re-education center.

"And I bite."

He finished sullenly and angrily, not even trying to warm up: his hands lay limply on the wet asphalt, and his legs were bent at the knees so as not to take up much space in the alley. However, he did not take his tired gaze off her, as if he was counting on her not leaving and continuing to talk to him.