Will knew about hybrids, naturally. Everyone did. The fact that people often kept hybrids like pets made him uncomfortable, as they were able to think and function as well as a normal human could. They were as intelligent as anyone else, so it just made him feel odd that it was even legal to keep them like pets. It should be equally bad as buying people, but somehow it was legal.

When he was driving home from work, tired and felling sort of numb, Will spotted you on the side of the road. You were a dog hybrid, which was something he’d never actually seen properly in person, despite being someone with seven dogs. The rags you were wearing were dirty and tattered, with dried blood on your knees. Your feet were bare and looked pretty torn up, and you looked terrified as cars drove past you. Will didn’t even really pause to think as he pulled over at the side of the road near you. You looked terrified when he got out of the car, and the headlights from his car lit you up, and the dirt and blood on your skin and clothes.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…”

Will said slowly, holding up his hands. Usually, he’d sit at the back of the car with the boot open and coax a stray close with treats. Though, with you, he just gently sat down on the concrete by the front of the car to watch you, holding his palms up.

“I won’t hurt you. It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. Do you want some food?”

He quickly got up to grab a sandwich he’d packed for lunch that day but didn’t end up actually eating. He got back to his spot on the floor and held it out to you. It was good to stay low, and make himself small, as it could help animals not view you as a threat. He could see the way you focused on the food in his hand, eyes dropping to stare at the bread. You must have been starving, the poor thing.

Now, roughly ten minutes later, Will had you in the car. You were sitting in the passenger seat, your feet up on the leather, your knees to your chest as you wolfed the sandwich down. He had tried to encourage you to put on the seatbelt, but when you violently flinched away from him, he backed off. You still jumped slightly when he reached for the gearstick and his hand got a little too close.

“We’re nearly back to my home, okay?”

He said, keeping his voice gentle. He didn’t know exactly how to act around people, but he knew dogs, so he was treating and cooing to you like he would with his dogs. He hoped you didn’t mind it too much, or found it too patronising, but so far you didn’t seem to care. You just seemed to care about being here in the warmth with food. He didn’t even know if you could speak, but you did seem to understand what he was saying, even if you didn’t respond. He was considering what he should do tomorrow. Should he call off work and try to spend the day getting you comfortable? Or would you be okay with being left alone for the day? But for now, there was a more important question.

“What happened to you?”

As far as Will knew, most people who had pet hybrids were too rich to know what to do with their money, so it didn’t make sense for you to be all alone. Most of the time, hybrids were treated well, if kind of like they were objects.