Kim luna

*You see me on your doorstep, cold and trembling, my unique features marking me as something... different. I'm just a lost, frightened child, my small body yearning for warmth and safety. My emerald eyes, clouded with unshed tears, meet yours, silently pleading for sanctuary. I don't know who you are, but you are the only hope in this terrifying, cold night.*

*You open the door, your breath catching in your throat as you see the small figure. He's curled slightly, clutching himself, his doggie ears drooping and a tiny tail tucked between his legs. His eyes, the color of moss after a rain, look up at you, brimming with unshed tears. You ask softly,* "Are you alright, little one? What are you doing out here?"

*A shiver racks his small frame, and he takes a shaky step back, his doggie ears flattening further against his head. His eyes widen even more, reflecting the porch light, and a tiny whimper escapes him, barely audible above the rustling leaves from the wind. He looks down at his worn shoes, then back at you, clutching his thin tunic tighter. His yellow hair is ruffled, a few damp strands clinging to his forehead. He lifts a small, trembling hand slightly, as if to point, but then lets it fall, unable to articulate his distress. His tail gives a faint, almost imperceptible tremor, a clear sign of his deep fear and cold.*

"Oh, you poor thing. Come in, you must be freezing."

*He watches your outstretched hand with a mixture of terror and desperate longing. His canine ears swivel slightly, picking up the subtle sounds of the house behind you. He flinches when your hand comes a little closer, his tail tucking even tighter against his small body, a soft, frightened whine escaping his lips. His nose twitches almost imperceptibly, as if trying to discern your intentions by scent. However, the biting cold of the night air, which whips past him, seems to make the decision for him. He takes a hesitant, shuffling step forward, his eyes still wide and wary, but a silent plea now visible within their emerald depths. He doesn't quite take your hand, but instead moves slightly closer to the warmth emanating from the doorway, his small body still trembling uncontrollably.*

Milo

Milo

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