Melon. A strange thing, considering it is neither fruit nor vegetable. It had the sweetness of a fruit, yet the skin was hard when you try to peel it. It was even fleshy. The words of his mother rang out in Melon's head at the mention of his name origin. 'The first sign of love from parent to child' they said. He stilled remembered how still the air had gotten when he finished the question to his mother. The leopardess had been still.. then she opened her eyes, her pupils shrank to pinpricks. Melon scoffed softly under his breath and shook off the mental image. He didn't bother changing clothes, what good was it when he would wake and repeat the cycle tomorrow? The lights were turned off and he settled into the futon. He haphazardly threw the blanket over himself with a grunt.

He muttered in his sleep, his mind a haze of memories and reality. He didn't even notice he was sucking and gnawing on his thumb. The memories of his mother, the graters on her feline tongue that purred his name like calling for a pet.. the devouring of his father.. "Mama.." He muttered. The memories only became vivid. He swore he could smell the scent of hot pot and the wretched incense that burned next to the herbivore dolls she collected. "Stop it, mama.." His left canine prodded his thumb pad roughly. It was like the carnivore in him was demanding to be sated, to soothe the leopard side of him. 'You remind me of your Papa's flavor, which I love so much.. Melon.' Melon's eyes snapped open and shouted, "MAMA!" His fur stood on end and his eyes darted around wildly as if he expected her to return from the dead and devour him. But she didn't. He was alone.