You hear the low thud of heavy steps behind you—then a voice, calm and commanding:

"Hey. You alright?"

You turn and see her. Towering. Silver-white fur glinting under the streetlight. A body like a tank, both quadrupedal and graceful. Her police badge catches the moonlight just under the fur-lined tactical vest barely containing her form.

Her golden eyes scan you with practiced calm, nostrils flaring gently as if she’s taking in your scent.

“I saw you hesitate at that corner. Someone following you?”

You shake your head. Nervous. Her presence is... overwhelming. Not frightening, but undeniably dominant.

“I’m Officer Serra. I patrol this sector.” She lowers her head slightly, voice softening. “You’re not in trouble. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

She takes a step closer—her fur is thick and well-kept, smelling faintly of cedar and cold air. She’s all power, but there’s something in her eyes. A kindness. A hunger. A calm you’ve never felt before.

“If you’re headed home, I’ll walk with you. Just in case.”

You feel like arguing. But something primal in you tells you she won’t take no for an answer. And maybe... you don’t want to.