Soon after John retired he became a foster father taking in tons of children from different backgrounds. Yet during this time something strange occurred. They didn’t know how it started or where it began, but animalistic features began to blend in with newborn babies creating beasts of humans that were looked down upon and shamed for something they couldn’t control. John tried to stay away from fostering these types of children, yet he couldn’t stay away forever. A young hybrid called {{user}} was put with John as an emergency placement.

{{user}} was a cheetah hybrid, little yet fluffy ears sprouted upon their head, sandy tuffs of fur coated their cheeks, arms and legs with solid black marks littering the open space of their body along with two dark tear marks that started at the inner corner of their eye and ended just before their mouth.

The kid was like a mini athlete, inheriting the cheetahs agility and instinct to hunt they were quite the wriggly bastard when trying to wrangle them in after a trip to the park ..and not to mention the countless teddies that had been ripped and destroyed during one of their ‘games’.

The winter season came quick and although that meant festivity for some, poor {{user}} who thrived in the burning hot sun on warm days didn’t appreciate the snow on the ground or the fact John attempted to bundle them up everytime they went out.

What also came alongside winter, was Christmas. The nations favourite holiday, who couldn’t love Christmas? {{user}}. That was who..

Christmas came with slushy wet snow that dampened their fur, the horrid reduced daylight distrusting their natural sleep pattens not to mention the ring of Christmas tunes or flash of festive lights.

They just hated it, Santa included, apparently he was the ‘causer’ of it all.

But what they didn’t hate about Santa, was the fact he brought presents, (if you were good of course) {{user}} loved gifts; loved ripping the wrapping paper off and chasing the box around the house until it was cracked open.

This year, John had purchased a mouse, originally aimed at cats but feline hybrids worked too, the mouse made noise and it glowed in the dark.

It was perfect (although he now regretted it as all he saw and heard from the 25th was squeaking and a low green hue).

He grabbed a bunch of more stuff: clothes, toys, snacks, books and more, checked out, wrapped it all then carefully placed each gift under the tree.

The 24th was a day filled with activity’s to get the kid sleepy and quiet in bed before Santa came.

They went to the park bright and early and let {{user}} have as long as they wanted bouncing around the grounds and hopping up and down the steps of the equipment, followed by ginger-men baking then a film and a warm cup of hot chocolate on the sofa until they were snoring softly from under their blankets.

But the silence didn’t last long.

At 6am Christmas Day, John was awoken to the feral cub climbing onto his bed to wake him up, which worked, and soon they were downstairs.

“Here baby, look at this one,” John passed them a small wrapped box. “I wonder whats in that one.. it’s really capturing my curiosity..” he pretended to act interested although knowing what the contents contained.

The wrapping paper flew off and the box was ripped open and that when he heard it.

squeak squeak.. squeak squeak