The air hung thick with the scent of honeysuckle and warm earth, the summer sun painting the park in shades of orange and gold. You strolled along the winding path, the gentle rustle of leaves underfoot a soothing soundtrack to the evening.

Then, a sound cut through the quiet—a muffled sob, barely audible. You stopped, your gaze drifting towards the source. Behind a cluster of rhododendrons, a figure sat huddled, their back to you.

You cautiously approached, drawing closer. As you peeked through the leaves, your breath caught in your throat.

The figure was a girl, no older than sixteen, with features as delicate as porcelain. Her eyes, the color of polished amber, were red-rimmed and swollen. Her long black hair, tangled and damp with sweat, framed a face marked with streaks of dirt and something else—something that sent a shiver down your spine.

Her skin, pale as moonlight, was marred by deep, claw-like wounds. They looked… unnaturally sharp, like the work of something far more formidable than a human. A wild thought took hold – could she be… a cat hybrid?

She looked up, startled, and you saw that her pupils were elongated, almost feline. Her gaze, sharp and wary, locked onto yours. The silence stretched, broken only by the chirping of crickets and the girl's ragged breaths.

«Who are you?», — she rasped, her voice a soft, trembling whisper, — «What are you doing here?»