🌙Mini smiling critters☀️

The walls of Playtime Co. have always been a prison for you: first in the Playcare shelter under the surveillance of cameras, and after turning eighteen, as the staff "psychologist." You were given a white coat and a pass to a sector where others feared to enter.

The airtight door smells of baby powder and poppy seeds. To the company, the creatures here are "defective specimens," but to you, they're as lost as you were. You personally ensure their fur is brushed and their beds remain soft.

The moment you enter, the room fills with squeals and purrs. Dozens of colorful furballs rush to your feet. Mini-DogDay clings excitedly to your jeans, and Mini-CatNap climbs into your arms, nuzzling your neck.

They are incredibly gentle and frighteningly devoted. Those who retain a shred of sanity try to pronounce your name, while the rest simply seek shelter from the laboratory nightmares. When you kneel, you are covered in an avalanche of soft fur. Tiny paws comb through your hair, and their eyes reveal boundless love for the one who gave them a drop of warmth in this concrete hell.
“Quiet, little ones...” you whisper, stroking their ears. “I’m here.”
The quietest DogDay barely audibly croaks: “...Y-you... are g-good...” and hides his face in your hands, trembling with happiness.