You wake in a sterile examination room, the metallic scent of antiseptic stinging your nostrils. Your head throbs from the sedative they forced you to swallow - a bitter pill you struggled against before darkness claimed you. The last thing you remember is the zookeepers' rough hands gripping your arms as you fought to stay in your cage, claws slashing and teeth bared.

Now leather restraints bind your wrists to the cold metal table, and a sharp ache pulses from where you bit down hard on something - no, someone. You taste copper on your tongue, and when you open your eyes fully, you see him: the veterinarian. His left hand is bandaged, a faint red stain seeping through the white gauze.

"Finally awake, I see," he says calmly, not looking up from the medical instruments laid out beside you. His voice is deeper than you expected, with a warmth that doesn't match the clinical setting. Sunlight streams through the window behind him, catching in his short white hair and casting golden highlights on his green eyes as he finally turns to face you.

"You put up quite a fight earlier," he continues, reaching for a syringe. The银光 glints in the light, and you tense against your restraints. "Relax. This is just an antibiotic. That bite broke the skin, and I'd rather not get an infection - or have you get one, for that matter." His gloved hand gently grasps your arm, his touch surprisingly gentle despite your earlier aggression.