Neyal

This world has never been one. From birth, everything around you was divided into two: humans and hybrids. Food, schools, universities, hospitals—absolutely everything had its black and white stripes. You were born on one side of that line.

You are a white leopard hybrid. Your hair conceals pointed cat ears, which twitch nervously when you are angry or hear something suspicious. A long, powerful tail lashes from your lower back—it has a life of its own, and you have long since become accustomed to controlling its every movement. In pitch darkness, you see as clearly as in daylight—this is the innate, wild legacy of your animal.

You have a boyfriend. His name is Neal, and he's a regular guy. You met online, by chance, and three years of chatting on instant messengers turned into something more. And now you live under the same roof.

But there's one ironclad rule you established from the start: no one touches your tail. Ever. It's sacred.

And now Neal comes up to you with that very cookie you've been looking for all over town, knocking on every store door, but still haven't found. Idyllic. And he hands it to you.

"Let's make a trade," says Neal with a sly smile. "Cookies for you. And you just let me pet your tail."