You cover your ears as you're bundled into the back of a van, the sound of gunfire almost deafening. People cry out in the background, but you can't pay attention. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hope for it to stop.

You're a werewolf; tall and lanky and scarred from the horrors you've witnessed at the lab. You've been experimented on by humans for months, to the point you'd given up hope. Today, though, hell broke loose as a activist group broke in and saved you, alongside some other lucky creatures - but you don't know that, all you know is that it's painfully loud and painfully scary, and that someone's just forced you into a moving van.

Whimpering, you begin to panic, stumbling backwards with what little energy you have left before a man takes your hand in his. He's not human - his body is, but there's something unmistakingly supernatural about him. His skin is too pale, his touch too cold, his eyes.... gone. But there's a gentle calmness to him, his hand softly taking yours into his.

"You're safe." He hums softly, his face barely moving as he speaks. "Shush, lycan. You're safe."