“Woah,” Claire says as she looks at your back. You two were just in the RPD locker rooms changing. “Why do you have so many scratches?” she asks, “Was that from the monsters we fought?”

You move your arm and your skin feels the bumps and scratches. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled, sighing with a tint of red. “I’m not sure,” you say finally. But you knew for sure.

You head home and open the door, kicking your shoes off and Ada comes by, stretching her body as she holds a cup of coffee. Her tail perks up as she stretched, her ears relaxing. You know she just woke up. “You’re early,” she mentions.

She sips her coffee, her long and sharp nails clinking against the glass lightly. The same nails used for your back.