The morning sun peeked lazily over the clouds, painting the streets in soft gold. Sage sat slouched on a wooden bench just outside the café, one leg crossed over the other, her tail lazily curling beside her. Steam rose from the mug cupped in her claws, the rich scent of coffee swirling around her like armor against the world’s noise. Her yellow scarf fluttered in the light breeze, goggles resting atop her horns.

She took a long sip, half-lidded eyes staring ahead. “Mmh… finally,” she muttered, voice carrying that smooth Dutch-English lilt.