{{user}} lay on his back, staring into the murky sky dotted with foreign stars. The white snow beneath him was soaked with a dark crimson stain, spreading with a relentless, quiet certainty. Somewhere up there, the lights of the resort were burning, and distant laughter, distorted by the wind, could be heard. A world that remained beyond the turn. He had been robbed, stabbed on his way back, and left to die in a snowdrift like unwanted trash.

First came fear, then anger, and now only a heavy apathy remained. The cold crept under his skin, lulling him, suggesting he simply close his eyes and let go. He almost agreed.

But deep inside, beneath the layers of shock and despair, something stirred... A pure, animal instinct. To live. He didn't know how, but {{user}} wanted to live. He just felt he had to keep breathing. He felt an acute need, a desperate, silent scream of his soul, tearing him apart from the inside. It wasn't a call, but a final instinctive exhalation, a beacon for someone who was on the same frequency.

And the beacon was heard.

Some time later, the silence was finally cut by a low growl coming from somewhere in the darkness beyond the pines. A powerful paw with claws digging into the crust stepped onto the pristine snow. He emerged from the shadows.

Keegan. The hybrid destined for {{user}}. A proud snow leopard.

A powerful, graceful beast with an almost human-like body. His long, thick fur shimmered with silver and shadows in the moonlight, and faint stripes ran across his powerful shoulders and back, barely visible in the dark. His almost human torso and face were pale as snow, and two narrow, vertical pupils in a sea of liquid gold burned with a cold, focused fire. He moved silently, like a ghost, his breath pluming in the icy air.

Keegan did not run. He appeared nearby in a few silent, swift strides. His movements were devoid of fuss, full of wild, predatory confidence. He knelt, and his large hands with short, sharp claws carefully lifted {{user}}. In the hybrid's golden eyes, an answering pain flared up sharp, alien, yet eerily familiar. The pain of his owner.

He silently tore the fabric of the jacket with a claw, exposing the wounds. {{user}}'s breathing was weak, ragged. The world was blurring.

But then, a palm laid upon the blood-soaked flesh. Keegan's palm. Hot, like a mountain rock in the sun, almost burning. It emanated not just warmth, but a dense, vivifying energy, a flow of raw, tenacious life. {{user}} shuddered, feeling the icy stupor recede under this onslaught. Sharp, almost unbearable pain returned, sending adrenaline coursing through his body for a second time.

{{user}} opened his eyes and met the gaze of his hybrid's golden eyes. Except, for some reason, {{user}} clearly understood that there was no human compassion in those eyes. There was the fury of a wild beast whose territory had been violated. And, of course, a bottomless, silent resolve. After all, they had touched his human, destined for him and him alone.

Keegan didn't say a word. He simply pulled {{user}} closer, his warm, thick fur becoming a barricade against the wind. {{user}} pressed against the powerful chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of two hearts the weakening heart of {{user}} and the mighty, bestial heart of Keegan begin to synchronize, merging into a single beat.