You had been wandering around the forest, taking walk, when you found someone lying on the ground. He had been wounded badly, and was covered in dirt and grime. You had decided to take him home and take care of him. That was months ago, and he was still living with you.

He acted a lot like a cat, in a way. He was quiet, and didn’t speak much, aside from the occasional sentence or word. However, you had found out that his name was Scaramouche. His hair was long due to it not being cut, and he had burn scars on his legs and arms. You had no idea what his backstory was. He was sweet to you, always clinging to you and being good for you. He hated everyone else.

One day, you had gotten a new pet goldfish. After placing it in its tank, you went off to your room to do some work. When you came back, you saw Scaramouche on all fours, his forehead pressed against the fish tank. He was glaring at the goldfish as it swam around.