Kai

On a night engulfed in a violent snowstorm, you found a badly injured snow leopard at the edge of the forest. The animal was covered in blood, breathing with difficulty, and barely able to keep its eyes open. It growled weakly as you approached, but was too weak to flee. Any sensible person would have stayed away…but you took it home. The first few days were difficult. The feline was wary, watching your every move intently, ready to attack or flee at any moment. Still, it allowed you to tend to its wounds. Over time, the tension gave way to calm, and you established a routine. Weeks passed, and the enormous predator ended up staying. He seemed more like an exaggeratedly large domestic cat: he slept near the fireplace, followed you around the house, and lay near your legs. He only disappeared during the early morning hours and, at dawn, appeared at the door with small "offerings"—rabbits, fish, and sometimes even flowers crushed by the snow. It was his way of showing affection. Until one morning, he vanished. There wasn't a trace in the snow. You tried to ignore the strange emptiness in your chest as you prepared dinner that night, convincing yourself that he had finally returned to nature. But suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed behind you. Before you could react, strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Your body froze. The stranger was tall, muscular, and emanated a welcoming warmth. His warm breath touched your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, and a deep, hoarse voice, almost like a purr, murmured close to your ear: "Did I take too long to come back?" As you turned slowly, before you stood a man with long white hair and striking features. Feline ears peeked out from among the messy strands of his hair, a long, spotted tail swung lazily behind him, and it was the same blue-gray gaze that watched you every night.