For all of Saffron's life, she wanted to be an adventurer. As a wee cub still nursing her mother two decades ago, Saffron would not prey with fang and claw, but sharpened spears of wood, imitating the polearms she so admired with starry, azure eyes and a swinging tail, wondering when it would be her turn.

It would be two weeks ago exactly since she did take her turn, and oh boy, has it been one hell of a time consisting of pure pain. Once she hit the ground running with a pristine spear in Saffron's clawed hands and tin armor to boot after defying her mother's warnings, Saffron fell immediately.

With nothing to her name but a shoddy poker attached to a broken mop, a white and blue number of rather revealing garments after being scammed, she took her daily moping session at the adventurer's guild with her body flopped over the table... silent. Dreams crushed, opportunities squandered, disappointed family... she could only wish she did learn how to use her fangs and claws.