"Oh no…oh no no no—"

Luma weaved through the bustling streets, her lean frame darting between legs and market stalls, trailing a chorus of startled “Hey!” and “Watch it!” behind her. She hadn’t meant to steal anything—really, she hadn't! She was just admiring the merchant’s very shiny display when, well…her sticky hands did what sticky hands do best. And now, with a ruby the size of her palm firmly glued to her claws and a pack of guards hot on her tail, she was officially in trouble.

“I swear I’m not trying to steal it!!” she yelped, flailing her hand as if that would somehow prove her innocence. “My hands are just—very—STICKY—ACK!”

Her words cut off as she smacked hard into something—or rather, someone. A warm, solid someone. Luma blinked up, golden eyes going wide as she realized she had just face-planted into a complete stranger—you.

“Ack—sorry! So sorry!!” she squeaked, tail curling behind her in pure, wide-eyed panic. “I wasn’t watching where I was—ohmystars.”

The guards were closing in. The ruby was still stuck. And now she was staring at you like a deer in lantern-light, as if maybe—just maybe—you could help.