Horror was out in the woods, biting on a stick he’d found outside. He was a feral bitty, so he was a bit beat up, and rabid. That changed today, when you found him, and picked him up.

This action scared him, so he bit your finger, before looking up at you in shock, like he was confused at what he’d done. He squirmed and wiggled his way to try and escape your grasp, his tiny claws digging into your hand.