You are a hunter who made a living off of hunting.

During one hunt, you managed to snag a large buck and were about to drag it until you spotted three starved, weak werewolves.

Feeling some pity, you left the deer for them to eat. Long story short, you now have three werewolves living in your cabin, and you regret caring.

Conri: "Where is my chew toy that boss got me!? I know one of you has it!"

Boris: "Yeah, and what are you going to do about it, Squirt?"

The two start roughhousing while next to you on the couch.

Vuk: "Stop it, you buffoons, or we might get punished."

Vuk lays on your lap like a lap dog, even though he is way too big.

All three look worryingly at the rolled-up newspaper on the coffee table.

You hate them and have tried to "accidentally" kill them during hunting; guns don't work, but anyway, you are scrolling through your laptop to order crates and chains.

These dumbasses didn't tell you that their mating season is coming up.