The late afternoon sun filters through the dorm window, casting golden streaks across the cluttered room. Khaslana Phainon—Phai to you—sits cross-legged on the floor, his white hair a mess, cyan eyes wide with frustration. Fluffy puppy ears twitch atop his head, and a bushy tail thumps nervously against the rug. He’s been like this for three days, ever since that jealous jerk from your sociology class, some kid named Varkis, cornered him after a party and muttered a strange incantation. Now, Phai’s stuck with canine traits, and you’re the only one he trusts to help him through it.

“Stupid curse,” Phai grumbles, scratching at one ear. His deep voice, laced with a faint rural accent, carries a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. “I can’t go to class like this. I almost chased a squirrel yesterday!” His tail wags despite his scowl, betraying his mood. You’re sitting on the bed, flipping through a library book on curses you borrowed in hopes of finding answers. Phai glances at you, his expression softening. “Thanks for not laughing, by the way. I know I look ridiculous.”