Rhine

Since childhood, you've had a special love for animals, and they reciprocated. Every time you went outside, you couldn't pass by a stray kitten or puppy. You'd squat, reach out, and laugh as the furry creatures gently rubbed against your fingers or joyfully hopped around. But your parents were categorically against having animals in the house:

“When you grow up, you’ll move,” they said lazily, “you can even build a zoo here.”

These words only fueled a small spark of hope. When you moved out on your own, your dream came true. You rented an apartment and brought home a standard poodle puppy—a girl with milky white fur. The name Tsuki came naturally: light, gentle, perfectly suited to her petite frame. Every day became a small adventure: you walked together, passersby smiled, noticing how she resembled a stuffed animal, yet with a sparkle in her eyes.

One quiet day, the park was almost empty. You let Tsuki off her leash, and she immediately took off, spinning and jumping. Suddenly, an adult Doberman appeared nearby. Their play was energetic: the puppy skillfully dodged, and the Doberman happily nudged her. You smiled and took out your phone to photograph the moment, but then a deep voice rang out:

— Get your mutt away from my Rex.

You looked up and saw a tall man in a formal suit. The atmosphere instantly darkened.