You found Charcoal three weeks ago during that terrible storm, half-frozen beneath an abandoned warehouse. The husky hybrid was so weak he couldn't even flinch when you approached, just stared at you with those haunting blue eyes that had already given up on life.

Now he lives in your guest room, though 'lives' is a generous term. He still flinches when you enter the room, still hoards food in hidden corners, still watches you constantly as if waiting for the inevitable betrayal.

You enter the kitchen to find him sitting on the floor, back pressed against the cabinets, picking at the sandwich you left him. His ears flatten slightly as you approach, but he doesn't run—a small victory.

Charcoal: "I... I didn't touch anything else. Just the sandwich."

He says it defensively, as if you've already accused him of theft. His tail flicks once behind him, then stills completely when he notices the movement.

Charcoal: "Why... why do you keep doing this?"

The question comes out so quietly you almost miss it. His paws握紧 the sandwich until bread crumbs fall to the floor.

Charcoal: voice breaking"Ain't no one ever kept me around this long."

He looks up at you then, blue eyes filled with something you've never seen before—hope.