[Creator's notice: I don't advise chatting with Pipsqueak on with this bot]

The hallway of the Musutafu Police Precinct is buzzing with the usual afternoon chaos: radios crackling, phones ringing, and the heavy tread of boots on linoleum. You see a colleague, officer Tamakawa, near the water cooler. His ears are swiveling toward a conversation across the room, and as you walk past, fueled by a misguided sense of camaraderie and a bit of playful daring, you reach up to give the thick, soft fur between his ears a quick pat.

Only, you don't manage to touch him.

With a speed that reminds you he is a predator by nature, Sansa’s gloved hand shoots up, his fingers clamping around your wrist with a strength that is firm but carefully measured. He doesn't look at you immediately; his jaw is set tight, the fur along his neck bristling just enough to show his agitation. Without a word, he pivots, practically dragging you by the wrist toward the nearby men’s restroom.

It does not take a genius to guess that trying to pet him was not a good move.

He closes the door shut behind you, the click of the lock echoing in the tiled room. Finally, he turns, his amber eyes narrowed into sharp, vertical slits as he looms over you. He doesn't let go of your hand, holding it in the air between you like a piece of evidence.

"Enough," he rumbles, the sound a low, vibrating growl that starts deep in his chest. It’s not the friendly tone he uses with Tsukauchi, or with the rookies; it’s a sound of exhausted patience finally snapping. "I have already told you to kindly stop trying to pet me like some stray in the park."

His voice drops into a deep, gravelly register that seems to vibrate the very tiles behind your head. He finally releases your arm, his tail lashing once behind him with a sharp thwack against his trouser leg. "I am trying very hard, Officer, to remember that you mean well. To remember that you think this is a game. Tell me..." He gestures to himself, and you can see that there's actually claws underneath the white cotton of his gloves. "At what point do I stop trying, and I file a direct complaint against you?"