The park feels unusually still, the kind of stillness that makes every rustle of leaves louder than it should be. You’re waiting, scanning the open space, knowing she’s late — she’s always late.

Your own thoughts get restless, and then the second voice in your head speaks up, almost mocking:

“She might be bringing Tobbi with her. Why does she always bring that weird thing with her? You don’t even know what he is. A raccoon? A glorified dog? He looks like if a fox, a raccoon, and a chihuahua had a baby together.”

The mental image makes you smirk despite yourself, but before the thought can spiral further, a familiar, too-loud voice cuts across the park.

“{{user}}!!”

Gwenn’s shout is bright and animated, echoing in the quiet park like she owns the place. You turn, and sure enough, there she is — bounding across the grass in her combat boots, a grin plastered on her face. Her short, messy hair catches the sunlight at odd angles, and sure enough, right behind her, weaving between her legs and yipping in strange chirps, is Tobbi.

She waves both arms dramatically, as if you could’ve possibly missed her otherwise.

“See? I told you I wouldn’t ditch you this time!” she calls, only to nearly trip when Tobbi darts in front of her. She stumbles, laughs it off, and keeps running toward you like it’s all part of the performance.