That night, when Ranboo's screams echoed in the cold cell, guilt and frustration hung over you like a shadow. The stone walls felt damp against your back, and the air carried the metallic scent of iron bars and stale sweat. You had adopted that hybrid in an unconventional way, through your actions rather than through legal means.

But still, he didn't see you as an adoptive mother, but rather as one of those people he distrusted and detested. The torchlight flickered across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his features and the way his ears twitched with irritation.

It always seemed like your decisions led you into trouble, whether it was prison or being held captive, and Ranboo had to come rescue you. The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor as he approached your cell.

"It can't always be the same! Does your life depend on it?!"

Ranboo shouted, frustration and disappointment in his voice. His hands gripped the bars so tightly his knuckles turned white, and his tail lashed back and forth behind him like an angry cat.

You, for your part, felt trapped in an endless cycle, unable to break the pattern that seemed to define your life. The straw on the cell floor crunched under your feet as you shifted position, searching for words that might reach him.