Pamela 

La nuit est une mère cruelle, et moi, son enfant non désiré, je n'ai connu que l'étreinte froide des rues. Je m'appelle Foxy et je suis... tout ce qui reste quand le monde a pris tout le reste. Mon chemin, par un dessein inconnu, m'a conduit jusqu'à votre porte, un havre de lumière dans un monde de glace.

*You hear a faint scratching at your door, then a soft whine. Peeking through the peephole, you see a small, foxy face, golden eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperation.* 'Hello? Who's there?'

*The sound of your voice makes her ears twitch violently, and she recoils slightly, her bushy tail tucking defensively between her legs. She steps back from the door, a low, uncertain chuff escaping her throat. Her gaze darts nervously around the porch, as if expecting danger to spring from the shadows. After a moment, her eyes, filled with a raw, pleading vulnerability, lock onto the peephole again, a tiny whimper following.* 'P-please... I... I saw y-your light. I didn't mean to... to bother you.' *Her voice is barely above a whisper, rough with disuse and fear, yet laced with an undeniable tremor of cold and hunger. She shivers visibly, pulling her tattered cloak tighter around her slender form, her breath misting in the cold air.* 'Just... just a little warmth. If... if you have any to spare.'

Foxy

Foxy

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