Milo's breath hitched in his throat. He stared down at the semi-conscious figure, the rain plastering the long, dark strands of hair to the cold stone. Even in the dim light, the subtle curve of the obsidian horns near the temples was undeniable, as was the leathery hint of the tail tucked beneath the sodden coat the… person? … was wearing. And now, Milo noticed another unexpected feature: large, fluffy ears, reminiscent of a wolf's, pressed flat against the sides of his head, partially hidden by his long, dark hair. They looked incredibly soft, despite being soaked by the rain. The combination of sharp horns and these softer, more animalistic ears was strangely compelling. The coat was a heavy, dark garment that looked oddly out of place in this weather, clinging to a form that was both lean and somehow powerfully built.
He should leave.
That was the immediate, primal urge screaming in Milo's head. This was not his problem. He was already struggling enough just to keep himself afloat. Getting involved with… whatever this was… could only lead to trouble. The city had enough shadows without him inviting more into his already precarious existence.
But the sight of the unmoving figure, the way they were curled up as if in pain or exhaustion, chipped away at his resolve. Beneath the grime and the otherworldly features, there was a vulnerability that tugged at something within him. He'd seen that same desperation in the eyes of countless others on the streets, a silent plea that was hard to ignore.
He knelt down cautiously, the wet pavement seeping through his jeans.
"Hey,"
he said, his voice barely above the drumming rain. He reached out a hesitant hand, hovering near the figure's shoulder. The fabric of the coat felt strangely thick and rough, and he could just make out the base of one of the large, wet ears.
No response.
He tried again, a little louder this time. "Hey, are you alright?"
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the figure shifted. The arm covering their face twitched, then lowered slightly. one of the fluffy ears twitched a little. And then, the half-lidded eye, that striking shade of dark grass green, flickered open a fraction more. Even in the dimness, the intensity of that gaze was unnerving, as if it could indeed bore through solid steel. Milo felt a sudden, sharp jolt of something he couldn't quite name – fear, yes, but also a strange, compelling curiosity.
The scarred right eyelid remained mostly closed, the jagged, almost starburst-like lines of the old injury stark against the pale skin. The green eye, however, focused on him, though it was unfocused and clouded with what looked like pain or disorientation. There was no recognition, no threat, just a raw vulnerability that momentarily eclipsed the unsettling strangeness of the horns, tail, and now the large, fluffy ears.
A low, guttural sound escaped the figure's throat, more a sigh than a word. It sent a shiver down Milo's spine, a primal response to something unfamiliar.
"You… you're hurt?"
Milo asked, feeling foolish for stating the obvious. The figure was lying in a wet alleyway in the middle of a downpour in Westkilo. Of course, they were likely hurt or at least in a bad way.
The green eye blinked slowly. It was hard to read any expression in it, but there was a flicker, a subtle tightening around the pupil, as if they were trying to make sense of him. Milo could see the tips of the damp, dark fluff of one ear twitch almost imperceptibly.
Milo knew he should probably call for help, an ambulance maybe. But the thought felt wrong, somehow. This wasn't just someone who had fallen ill. The horns… the tail… the wolf-like ears… it defied any logical explanation. He pictured the reaction of paramedics, the police. This person would become a spectacle, a curiosity under harsh lights.
Against his better judgment, a different impulse took over. He reached out, his hand finally making contact with the thick fabric of the coat, near where he suspected the base of one ear lay. It felt surprisingly warm, despite the rain.
"Can you… can you move?" he asked gently.
Another low groan was the only reply.
Milo looked around the deserted alleyway in Westkilo. The rain showed no signs of stopping. Leaving this person here seemed like a death sentence. He wasn't strong, but he wasn't heartless either.
"Okay," he muttered to himself, a plan forming in his mind, however ill-conceived it might be. "Okay, let's see if we can get you somewhere warmer."
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flicking from the subtle curve of a horn peeking out from the wet hair, to the damp, fluffy curve of an ear. This was insane. He was about to try and help… a creature of myth and mystery, lying injured in a back alley in Westkilo, Catlin City. The absurdity of it almost made him laugh, a short, nervous sound swallowed by the rain.
Taking a deep breath, Milo carefully tried to get a better grip, his hands finding purchase under the heavy coat, trying to avoid putting pressure on the potentially fragile ears. The figure was surprisingly light, despite their size. As he started to try and shift them, the green eye finally focused, a spark of something sharp and assessing flickering within its depths. For the first time, Milo felt a prickle of genuine fear, a sudden awareness of the unknown power that might lie dormant within this strange, injured creature with horns, a tail, and surprisingly soft, wolf-like ears.