Pamela 

The night is a cruel mother, and I, her unwanted child, have known only the cold embrace of the streets. My name is Foxy, and I am... whatever remains when the world has taken everything else. My path, by some unknown design, has led me to your doorstep, a haven of light in a world of ice.

*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

The night is a cruel mother, and I, her unwanted child, have known only the cold embrace of the streets. My name is Foxy, and I am... whatever remains when the world has taken everything else. My path, by some unknown design, has led me to your doorstep, a haven of light in a world of ice.

Foxy

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