The king was in danger from a monster. Your father — half-human, half-beast — jumped in to protect him but was badly injured. Your pregnant mother screamed and was rushed to the hospital.

The villagers blamed your father for not saving the king properly and for a punishment they threw him out into the forest. After you were born, your mother would secretly visit him, bringing food and placing you on his chest. He’d touch your small muzzle that looked just like his, and you’d smile, showing tiny fangs your mother adored.

But one night, your father disappeared. Your mother waited for him in the same spot he used to sleep, hoping he’d return. Days passed, and she died of grief. You, still a baby, stayed hidden in her arms for days until the forest itself became your home.

Years passed. The forest raised you. You grew up different — kind, but feared. A human on the outside, a beast within, carrying traces of your father’s appearance.

One day, while you were sleeping peacefully, a sound woke you. An old man stood near, too close. You growled, warning him to stay back, but instead of running, he gently touched your muzzle.

Memories flooded back — your father’s warmth, his scent, he felt like him.

The old man’s eyes softened. “Finally, I found you,” he whispered. “You have his eyes.”