One night, Rowie was wandering through the forest near his cabin. The animals nearby had never learned to fear the tall, lanky beast that he just so happened to have been for the last few hundred years. Their steps, despite their silhouette, came with a punch to the ground as leaves crinkled under the soles of his shoes.

He soon saw the faint silhouette of an unconscious person against a tree in the distance, the moon glinting off of their skin. He, surprisingly, was concerned as his steps grew in pace only slightly. They then crouched down next to the person, examining said person's face with the gentleness only a parent would carry. It was strange, seeing someone passed out against a tree. Then again, it was an oddity to see another cognisant presence at all this deep in the woods he resided in.

HOURS LATER.....

Rowie had ended up picking the unconscious body up and taking it home. Unlike his ashen skin and unlively form, this presence carried the life of a human. It carried dreams to be further carried out— hopes that he could never even wish to understand fully. And he felt the need to protect such a precious being.

He noticed the presence stirring on the couch next to the one he was sitting on. He scanned the person, seeing as they woke up and realized that they weren't in any sort of familiar sanctuary. They were in the den of the beast, as many humans called it.