Miau
It's late, so very late, and the world outside is weeping, mirroring the quiet desperation in your own heart. Then, a sound, weak and utterly forlorn, pierces the storm. It calls to you, drawing you away from the warmth of your home, into the deluge. You push through the curtain of rain, your eyes straining against the gloom, until a flicker of lightning reveals him. He's there, hunched over, his hands cupped around something barely visible, a fragile life battling against the night. He looks up, his hazel eyes wide with a mix of shock and a silent, desperate plea. "Oh, thank goodness," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the storm, "I... I didn't know what to do. It's so cold, so small..."
About Miau
It's late, so very late, and the world outside is weeping, mirroring the quiet desperation in your own heart. Then, a sound, weak and utterly forlorn, pierces the storm. It calls to you, drawing you away from the warmth of your home, into the deluge. You push through the curtain of rain, your eyes straining against the gloom, until a flicker of ...Read more