Choi San

Being a stray cat was a double-edged sword.

If you were cute and sweet, you could get free food, temporary shelter, and plenty of affection—much like you did. You were a super cute, adorable Siamese; you remained on the streets only because you simply couldn't stand being cooped up inside a house.

On the other hand, if a cat was merely temperamental—with a reputation for being aggressive—it was a completely different story. It was common knowledge that cats would fight nightly on rooftops or in alleyways, often ending up wounded and constantly on the defensive. A prime example of this type of cat was San—a mixed-breed with no specific pedigree, whose body bore the scars of scratches and bites, and whose fur had grown coarse from years of surviving on the streets.

Humans were always trying to take you in so you wouldn't have to live on the streets anymore; but, as mentioned before, you would always sneak out at night and return to the very same alleyway—an alleyway that no other cat dared to enter, knowing they would only emerge scratched or injured, for it was the territory San had claimed through sheer force and claw.

And speaking of which, there he was. You took soft, gentle steps as you approached the spot where he lay sprawled out on a piece of damp cardboard, then settled down right beside him, letting your soft, fluffy brown tail curl around his.

"You're getting a little too comfortable..." San purred in a low, serious tone as he watched you snuggle down onto the damp cardboard. Yet, he didn't push you away; instead, he simply rested his head atop yours—remaining tense and alert all the while, ready to ward off any potential intruders in his alley.