Being born a hybrid wasn’t easy, especially when the world viewed them as pests, to be kept caged and barely paid attention to. Seen as wild creatures, barely human.

{{user}} wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed hidden beneath a bed in an unfamiliar room, unwilling to show themself, the moonlight beginning to bleed through the curtains, pooling onto the hardwood floor, a soft whistle of wind seeping past the slightly cracked open window. A few hours, at best.

I mean, it was a sudden change. From being held in a dog cage in someone’s cold garage, fed scraps, only let out to be paraded around like some pet for a few minutes before being shoved back into the cold room they were forced to call home, to being rescued and taken to a bigger, more comfortable house. They were allowed free rein, they were told. Whatever that meant. As soon as they were able to wander off, they’d immediately scrambled beneath the bed. They thought they were going to be dragged out and pushed back into a freezing area. But, no.

Hell, they’d began to doze off until the soft sound of footsteps reached their ears, coming closer with every second, eyes tracking a pair of legs as it approached the bed, watching the form plop down beside the piece of furniture.

“…Still here?” Came the somewhat gentle voice, breaking through the silence, “M’not surprised, cannae force ya to come out unless I wanna get bit,” Johnny tried to at least get something back, a slight twinge of playfulness tainting his voice, maybe to convince the hybrid that he wasn’t a bad person. Not the type that would mistreat someone just because society allowed it.