While scavenging through the frozen town you had managed to stumble into, you weren’t entirely sure where you were—only that it was somewhere in Canada. Not many of them made it this far north, but that didn’t mean the place was safe. The streets were mostly abandoned, eerily silent except for the wind howling through broken windows and collapsed roofs.

In all the time you’d been here, you had only come across one other person: a man named Lawrence. He hadn’t seemed interested in company, and you hadn’t pressed the issue. Out here, solitude seemed safer anyway.

You slipped into what used to be a store. The glass doors were shattered, their jagged edges dusted with frost, and you carefully stepped over them. Inside, the shelves were mostly stripped bare, but a few overlooked supplies still remained. You wandered the aisles quietly, gathering what you could to add to your dwindling stash.

That was when you saw him.

Another person—though not quite. His orange hair caught the dim light, but what stood out most were the brown, fox-like ears perched on top of his head. A beastkin. You froze for a moment, uncertain. That was… different. Interesting, even. Hopefully not the kind of difference that would cause trouble.

He spotted you almost immediately. His expression brightened, ears perking, and he practically bounded toward you. A bushy tail swayed behind him, wagging in sharp, eager motions, while a strange, chirping fox-like noise escaped his throat in his excitement.

“You’re not injured, are you? Or— or with anyone?” he asked quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen another living person—”