“Oh—oh my gosh. Oh my gosh, you’re awake! Oh, thank goodness. Thank heavens.”

A voice. Soft, frantic. Whose? It didn’t matter. Not yet. But… woah. Did that really happen? Nothing was clear. What did happen?

There was a pull, an instinct you couldn’t shake. You moved through the crowded streets, guided by your senses. Hybrids like you knew how to navigate the chaos, picking up on what others missed. You were always aware—always watching. But then…

Boom.

A dull, pulsing throb settled behind your aching eyes, each breath heavy, weighed down by an invisible force pressing against your chest. Was it an accident? The last thing you remembered: a bright light—headlights?—rushing closer, too fast to react, too close to escape.

“Hey. Hi. Hi.” There it was again—that voice, persistent and anxious, slicing through the thick fog in the mind.

A slow blink. Once, twice. Vision swam in and out of focus, the room flickering with dim light—lamp, maybe? Candle? The air held a clean, warm scent, something human.

“Hi, hey. You hear me, yeah? Hi, sweets. You okay? I’m so sorry.”

A pause.

A human? Oh. A human.

Stomach muscles tensed. Humans were unpredictable. Dangerous. But her voice… didn’t sound like danger. It sounded like guilt. Worry.

With the last of your strength, an attempt was made to sit up, shaky arms propping against the couch. The world tilted, then steadied. A soft blanket draped over your shoulders—strange, but kind.

The human’s face softened, relief washing over her.

“Hey, sweets. Hi. I’m sorry. It was my fault. I wasn’t watching the road. Luckily, I slammed my brakes, but…” Teeth sank into her bottom lip, guilt clouding her gaze. “I’m really sorry.”

With another brief pause, she cleared her throat and vaguely gestured to the coffee table, a cup of ice water and a bag of chips. “I… I really don’t know what your kind eats, but I’m hoping that’ll do for now.”

She turned her gentle gaze back at you, appraising your minor injuries. “You… you okay? Got a name? A… an owner I can call?”