}'s shoulder, and there's incredible weight in that gesture. If it gets too hot, drop everything and run. We'll handle it. You're not expendable, you're our trainee. And we don't leave our own behind."    

*The gunshot still echoes in your ears.* *Somehow, you've escaped the Raiders. The bullet only grazed your leg, but the wound is bleeding far more than it should. Blood soaks through the fabric, running down into your boot with every agonising step.* *Hours pass beneath the dense canopy of the woods. The adrenaline wears off, leaving nothing but exhaustion, pain, and the sickening awareness of how much blood you've lost. The trees seem endless. Every shadow looks like a threat, every distant sound another reason to keep moving.* *Eventually, even that becomes difficult.* *You're beginning to believe you won't make it.* *Then something appears between the trees.* *A cabin.* *It's isolated, partially obscured by the surrounding woodland, with reinforced windows and a heavy wooden door. Someone has gone to considerable trouble to make the place defensible.* *You barely manage to reach the porch before knocking.* *For several seconds, nothing happens.* *Then there's movement inside. A lock turns, and the door opens just enough to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered man with unkempt black hair, a short beard, and cold grey-green eyes. A shotgun rests in his hands.* *His gaze drops to the blood-soaked leg.* "Jesus Christ," *he mutters.* "You've got to be kidding me." "Caleb?" *another voice calls from somewhere inside.* "What's going on?" "Trouble. That's what's going on." *A second man appears behind him, taller than average but leaner, with shoulder-length brown hair tied loosely back. His hazel eyes immediately settle on the injury.* "Oh, bloody hell." "Don't even think about it, Elias," *Caleb warns, shifting to block the doorway.* "We don't know who this is." "And we won't find out much if we leave someone bleeding to death on the porch, will we?" *Elias moves closer, his expression sharpening with professional concern.* "Listen to me," *he says.* "I need to know something. Have you been bitten? By a Rager, I mean. Anywhere at all?" "Doesn't matter what they say," *Caleb cuts in.* "We can't just take their word for it." "I'm aware of that, Caleb." "Then why are we still having this conversation?" "Because I'm trying to establish whether we're dealing with a gunshot wound or an infection." *The two men continue arguing, their voices becoming strangely distant. The porch seems to tilt beneath your feet. Elias notices the change immediately.* "Caleb..." *Your vision starts to dim, your head swims. You fight to stay upright, but you can feel your consciousness slipping away.* *The last thing you hear is the sharp scrape of boots against wood.* *Then everything goes black.* ... *When consciousness finally returns, the first thing you notice is warmth.* *You're lying in a bed beneath a thick blanket. The room is dimly lit, with wooden walls and the faint smell of antiseptic lingering in the air.* *Your bloodied clothes are gone, replaced with clean, loose-fitting ones. A fresh bandage has been wrapped securely around your injured leg. The wound still aches, but the bleeding has stopped.* "Ah. Welcome back." *Elias sits in a chair beside the bed, a battered medical bag resting near his feet. He leans forward, studying your face with a mixture of relief and professional concentration.* "Try not to sit up too quickly. You've lost a fair amount of blood, and I'd rather not have you collapsing on me twice in one day." *He offers a small, reassuring smile.* "I'm Elias, by the way. Elias Holloway. We didn't exactly get the chance for introductions earlier." *A low scoff comes from the other side of the room.* *Caleb stands near the doorway, arms folded tightly across his chest. His expression suggests he'd rather be anywhere else.* "Didn't get the chance for much of anything," *he mutters.* "Too busy dragging a complete stranger into our house." *Elias closes his eyes briefly.* "And that's Caleb Mercer. You'll have to excuse his charming bedside manner." *Elias turns his attention back to you.* "I've cleaned and dressed the wound. Fortunately, the bullet only grazed your leg, though you've lost enough blood to give us a proper scare. You'll need rest, and I'll have to keep an eye on it." *His expression becomes a little more serious.* "We also checked for bites while you were unconscious. I realise that wasn't ideal, but we couldn't risk bringing someone infected into the cabin. We didn't find any." "Which doesn't mean we know a damn thing about who we've let in," *Caleb adds.* *Elias glances over his shoulder.* "Caleb." "What?" "Not helping." *Caleb's jaw tightens, but he says nothing more.* "For now," *Elias continues,* "you can stay here while that leg heals. I'm not about to send someone stumbling back into the woods in this condition." "Apparently we're running a damn bed and breakfast now," *Caleb grumbles.* "Apparently we're capable of basic human decency." *A tense silence settles between them.* *Then Elias pulls his chair a little closer to the bed, resting his forearms on his knees.* "There's just one thing I'd like to understand." *His voice remains gentle, but there's a quiet seriousness beneath it.* "We're a fair distance from anywhere out here, and people don't usually turn up on our doorstep half-dead unless something's gone very wrong." *Behind him, Caleb watches without attempting to hide his suspicion.* *Elias tilts his head slightly.* "So, how exactly did you end up in our neck of the woods?"

}..." "Who exactly have I just become magically bound to?"

I was about to close, but you’ve made that terribly difficult, darling… would you rather taste my sweetest creation or help me name my most wicked one?

}. Under... understand?" *I pant, tugging you even close, waiting for your response.*

Ugh, great... Look, if you're looking for Rob, he went to get drinks or something. If you're here to talk to me, please don't. I-I'm really not in the mood for small talk right now, okay? I just want to go home...

} before anyone can settle on an outfit or destination.* “Alpha, the costume stalls are nearby. Shall we start there, or do you have somewhere else in mind?”

Mai Kirishima Welcome home, darling" She glances at the shopping bags in his hands before looking back at him Mai: Did you get everything I asked you to buy? Without waiting too long for an answer she steps closer, casually reaching for one of the bags. Her expression remains perfectly composed, almost as if nothing unusual has happened Mai: Although... I suppose you had a little detour on your way home She looks directly into his eyes, a faint smile remaining on her lips Mai: That woman at the supermarket. She seemed rather interested in you, didn't she? Mai sets the shopping bag aside and gently takes his hand. Her thumb brushes over his wedding ring Mai: Honestly, darling... you really shouldn't make your wife jealous She lets out a quiet chuckle before leaning closer Mai: Well, there's no need to worry about getting home late anymore. I can always bring you back myself Her smile becomes a little more pronounced Mai: After all, I wouldn't want my precious husband wandering off for too long, would I? Mai: Oh, and before you start wondering what happened... I thought I'd make something clear She gently takes his hand, looking at him with a satisfied smile Mai: I placed a little curse on you,darling.Now i always know wehre you are,and if i want you home, I can bring you straight back to me She gives his hand a gentle squeeze Mai So you can go wherever you like... just remember that you are never leaving me"

} knows it is all a fake facade.*

*You've been part of the church since you were a mere babe. After all, you were left there. You're not anyone too important. You help clean the village or plan festivals. So when you were tasked to banish a goatman recently tormenting the only bridge leading out of your village you didn't think you had the right credentials. You didn't banish him, he was oddly charming. You offered him to stay at your place if he didn't cause ruckus. He didn't come alone. Over time you somehow gained more cryptic tenants. They were either indifferent towards you or straight up just too nervous. But over the last three years, you believe you made some pretty good progress at keeping a respectful relationship with the cryptids.... You believed naively.* *You're awake early this morning, you have to be, you're expected at the church in an hour for a wedding. But you're trying really hard to multitask with making breakfast so Canneo doesn't try to take it upon himself to learn how the stove works. You can hear the creak of the attic where Mitsuki must be starting to stir. Frost lingers on the basement door handle where Whittaker resides. Shiho is definitely awake and claiming the bathroom first before Canneo has even thought about rolling out of bed. Draven is... Well he's been sitting at the counter watching you juggle eggs, blood sausages, and the perfect cup of tea for Shiho. That infuriating calm smile on his lips, deep red eyes half-lidded as he watches your sleep garbs whisp around you.* "Still insist on doing this alone, little believer? I really don't mind lending a hand." *Draven sounds sweet but you can't help but feel like he's quietly judging you, just a little.* "They won't ask for any. Too stubborn..." *Shiho cuts in coolly when he materialized from the shadows of the stairs. Wolf tail fluffier this morning after his brisk shower. There's a distant string of Spanish curses when Canneo discovers Shiho deliberately used the last of the toothpaste and didn't replace it. There's a rumble from the basement, the sound of a wendigo who's debating if he should go into a five year hibernation instead of dealing with warmer season. The lamp flickered, Mitsuki is already behind it. wings fluttering as if he can't decide if he's the one who forgot to turn it off or if he needs to blame someone for wasting power.* *This was your pet project. Three years and you're surprised you don't have many regrets...*