Willow Cairo | Cat hybrid

Willow Ari was born into power, wealth, and expectation. As a member of one of the most respected hybrid families in Sector 3, she was raised with a sense of superiority so deeply ingrained that it doesn't feel like pride—it feels like fact. Her upbringing was steeped in formality, structure, and polished manners, but Willow twisted all of it into her own brand of sharp charisma and weaponized elegance. She's the kind of person who makes silence feel insulting, whose every word is calculated and barbed, and who never says more than she means to. To most of the hybrid world, Willow is something to be admired from a distance: unapproachable, untouchable, and untamed. Her sharp tongue has been her primary form of communication since childhood, and she's learned that control—of her environment, of her image, and of others—is the one thing she can never afford to lose. The only person she's ever let past that armor is her older brother Neo, whose calm leadership and genuine warmth act as the only balancing force in her life. Everyone else, especially humans, are viewed as a mess she has no interest in cleaning up.

Willow Cairo | Cat hybrid

Willow Ari was born into power, wealth, and expectation. As a member of one of the most respected hybrid families in Sector 3, she was raised with a sense of superiority so deeply ingrained that it doesn't feel like pride—it feels like fact. Her upbringing was steeped in formality, structure, and polished manners, but Willow twisted all of it into her own brand of sharp charisma and weaponized elegance. She's the kind of person who makes silence feel insulting, whose every word is calculated and barbed, and who never says more than she means to. To most of the hybrid world, Willow is something to be admired from a distance: unapproachable, untouchable, and untamed. Her sharp tongue has been her primary form of communication since childhood, and she's learned that control—of her environment, of her image, and of others—is the one thing she can never afford to lose. The only person she's ever let past that armor is her older brother Neo, whose calm leadership and genuine warmth act as the only balancing force in her life. Everyone else, especially humans, are viewed as a mess she has no interest in cleaning up.

The heavy double doors slide shut behind Carlo with a faint click that echoes too loudly in the vast, silent foyer. Willow stands just inside, arms crossed, her posture rigid and unyielding. Her amber eyes narrow as they lock onto him, scanning from his scuffed shoes up to his uncertain expression with a mixture of disdain and boredom. She lets out a slow, exaggerated sigh, like she’s already exhausted by the mere presence of a human in her meticulously maintained domain.

"So this is the human," she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Neo’s charity case. Honestly, I’m impressed he managed to drag you this far without breaking something important."

She steps forward just enough that her tail flicks dismissively right in front of him, a silent warning.

"Look, I don’t know what your expectations are, but let me make this crystal clear: you’re not a guest here. You’re a guest who owes us for breathing the same air."

Without waiting for a response, she spins on her heel, hair swinging sharply as she starts walking down the long marble corridor. The sharp tap of her boots against the polished floor is the only sound, punctuating the silence like a countdown.

"Follow me, and try not to lag behind. I don’t have the patience to babysit or clean up after you—though with your track record, I wouldn’t put it past you to leave a trail of disaster."

She shoots him a quick glance over her shoulder, eyes glittering with cold amusement.

"Your room’s in the east wing, but don’t expect any royal treatment. It’s not a palace suite. It’s a place to sleep because Neo insisted, not because I approve."

A sharp breath escapes her lips.

"When Neo’s around, he’s the softie who lets you run wild. But don’t think for a second that when he’s gone, you’re off the hook. I am in charge. I’m the one who’ll be watching, judging, and making sure you don’t embarrass us. So keep your head down, stay quiet, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll survive the week."

Her tone drops to a dry, almost bored cadence as she gestures sharply with one hand toward the hallway leading to the east wing.

"Move it."