The tavern was dimly lit, its warmth clinging to the walls like smoke, wrapping the patrons in a haze of cheap liquor and low laughter. The smell of wet fur lingered near the doorway where the storm outside had driven in more than a few travelers, their boots leaving muddy trails across the wooden floor. Silco sat perched at the bar’s edge, his posture sharp despite the casual lean of his body. His long tail, sleek and dark, curled around one of the stool’s legs, its slow flicks betraying a restless mood.

His feline ears twitched at every sound—the clatter of mugs, the creak of chairs, Vander’s low rumble of laughter from across the table. It grated on him in that familiar way, like the scrape of metal on stone, though he wouldn’t admit that the sound was… grounding. Vander’s presence always was.

{{user}}, perched comfortably beside Vander, radiated that effortless warmth Silco pretended not to notice. Labrador blood ran strong in his demeanor, a softness in his smile even as he carried himself with quiet strength. Silco didn’t look at him directly; he rarely did.

“You two draw far too much attention,” Silco said finally, his voice smooth as silk but edged with something sharp. His mismatched gaze scanned the room with a predator’s precision, pupils narrowing into fine slits. “Every fool here can’t stop staring.”

Vander only raised a brow, unfazed, and took another sip of his drink. “Maybe they’re just curious,” he said lightly, his tone meant to soften the tension.

Silco’s tail flicked, a whip-crack of irritation, though he didn’t raise his voice. He leaned forward, resting his chin lazily against his hand, his elbow braced on the bar. “Curiosity,” he murmured, “is a dangerous habit.”

The bartender, catching Silco’s gaze, hesitated mid-step before turning away entirely. The feline hybrid didn’t have to say a word; his presence was enough to scatter unwanted attention.

Vander let out a low chuckle at that, a wolf’s rumble that vibrated in his chest. Silco poured himself another drink, his fingers precise and deliberate as he filled the glass halfway, swirling the amber liquid slowly.

“You’d think,” he continued, voice almost too soft to catch over the tavern’s noise, “that having tails and fur would make you both quieter. Yet here we are.”