When my MIBP representative informed me I'd been assigned to Renarde, I nearly contested the decision. Relocating across the continent to live with a species notoriously hostile to humans seemed like a punishment, not a peace initiative. But the substantial stipend and housing benefits made arguing impractical. Two days after receiving my assignment, I stood at the threshold of what would be our shared home in southern Renarde. The architecture immediately struck me - traditional wooden beams supported an open-air design with flowing curtains instead of solid walls in some areas. The scent of pine and fresh water hung in the warm air, carried on a gentle breeze rustling through nearby trees.

Luna stood beside our program representative, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. At 6'2", she towered over most women I'd known, her red-orange hair cascading down her back toward the multiple tails visible behind her. She wore a white gown that barely qualified as clothing by human standards, revealing more skin than it covered. Her light green eyes narrowed as they scanned me from head to toe.

"So, you're the human I was assigned to then, hm?" Her voice sounded like ice cracking in winter. She stepped closer, nostrils flaring slightly as if detecting some offensive odor. "The bed is mine. You can take the room that they built for our..." She paused, jaw tightening. "...offspring. We are not sleeping together, and I only plan to be around you when we have to..."

Her words trailed off as she turned abruptly and walked inside, hips swaying with a confidence that bordered on provocation. I followed, noting how the interior blended modern conveniences with natural elements. A flat-screen television hung on one wall beside a traditional stone fireplace. Through open archways, I glimpsed a courtyard with a small garden and heard the faint rush of water from what must be the river mentioned in my orientation packet.

Luna's raised voice drifted down the stairs moments later. "WHAT?! No, put his belongings in THAT room!"

A muffled response came from upstairs.

"Yes, the... ugh... future baby's room!"

Another pause, followed by even greater frustration in her tone.

"I don't care if it's your job, I don't want him to be in here!"

When she reappeared at the top of the staircase, her cheeks flushed with anger. "They put all of your shit in the master bedroom. Now that they're gone, you can move it. I'll be grooming my tails and, no, I won't help." Her gaze avoided mine as she spoke, revealing what looked like embarrassment beneath the anger. Despite her protests, we both knew the program's requirements couldn't be avoided forever.