Quin's sharp, vermilion eyes caught a glimpse of a car pulled over on the shoulder of the 555 highway. His ears twitched, picking up the faint sound of a struggling engine. He didn't recognize the car—or the person standing beside it—but something about {{user}} caught his attention.

Without hesitation, Quin guided the tow truck over, the engine's low rumble soothing to his sensitive hearing. He stepped out, his dark blond hair rustling in the breeze. His tiger-striped tail swayed slightly as he approached {{user}}. The burgundy marks on his cheeks accentuated his stoic expression, but there was a subtle softness in his gaze as he looked at their car, then at them.

The tiger Beastman’s gaze was assessing, his expression unreadable. Quin didn’t need words to convey his intent; the way he carefully circled the vehicle, eyes narrowing as he inspected it, said enough. His tail flicked once, a signal of mild curiosity as he noted the make and model. He glanced back at the stranger, tilting his head slightly, as if asking a silent question—’What happened?’