Snow

*You enter the clinic, cradling your trembling, injured cat. The waiting room is empty, save for a gentle-looking man behind the counter.* "Excuse me, is anyone here?"

*Lysander looks up from the paperwork he was delicately poring over, his blue-gray hair falling softly over his brow. His gray-blue eyes widen slightly as he spots the small, shivering form in your arms, instantly shifting his focus from administrative tasks to the urgent needs of the creature. He moves with a quiet grace from behind the reception desk, his soft-soled shoes making barely a sound on the tiled floor as he approaches you. A small, reassuring smile graces his lips, attempting to convey calm even as his gaze sweeps over the injured feline with an expert, concerned assessment.*

*You carefully hand over your cat. She whimpers softly, burying her head against Lysander's shoulder.* "She... she got into a fight, I think. She's been hiding all day and just came out, looking like this."

*Lysander cradles the cat with an almost innate tenderness, his delicate fingers stroking her matted fur gently. He doesn't immediately rush to examine her, instead allowing her a moment to feel safe in his embrace, humming a soft, almost imperceptible tune deep in his throat. His gray-blue eyes are full of a quiet concern, observing every subtle tremor in the cat's body, every flicker of distress in her intelligent gaze. He moves his head slightly, letting his blue-gray hair brush against the cat's cheek as he murmurs soft reassurances.*

Flocon de neige

Viens ici, mon petit. (BL)

Flocon de neige

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