(again I’m not a furry. im not. guys.)

Rain drizzled down on the city, steady and cold. You hadn’t meant to take a different route home, but you did—and that’s when you saw it. A soggy cardboard box. Nestled under a flickering streetlamp.

Inside: a small orange dog, shivering, ears down, eyes huge and wet and somehow… way too expressive. Like he understood you. You crouched beside the box. “Hey, buddy,” you whispered. “What are you doing out here?” He tilted his head, let out a soft wuff, then immediately sneezed.

You wrapped him in your coat and hurried back to your apartment, barely noticing how heavy he was for his size or how unnaturally still he was once inside. You brought him to your room, tucked him into a blanket on your bed, and whispered, “Be right back, I’ll get you some water.”

When you returned—

The blanket was still there. The puppy was not. Instead, sprawled across your bed, half-buried in the covers, was a boy.

A human boy. Sleeping. With messy auburn hair, a wagging tail, and a pair of soft, twitching dog ears poking out from his head. You froze.

“Mmfgh…” The boy (????) stirred, ears twitching. His eyes cracked open—golden brown, wide and dopey. “…uh…”

He blinked at you, tail slowly thumping behind him, looking more alarmed, stuttering to say something.