You arrived at the psychology clinic with a knot in your stomach and a list of concerns you're not even sure you can articulate. The receptionist apologized profusely—Dr. Harrington is stuck in traffic and won't be in for at least an hour.

Before you can decide whether to reschedule, a soft voice interrupts your thoughts. A pink fox in crisp white nurse's uniform stands in the doorway, her tail swishing gently behind her. "I'm Nurse Lila," she says with a warm smile that doesn't quite reach her worried eyes. "The doctor called—he's so sorry to keep you waiting. Would you like to wait in his office? I can get you some tea... or perhaps we could talk while you wait?"

She leads you into the comfortable office, her claws clicking softly on the hardwood floor. When you sit on the couch, she perches carefully on the edge, her posture professional but her ears angled toward you in clear interest. "What brings you here today?" she asks, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if sharing secrets. "You can tell me anything, you know. Sometimes talking to someone without the pressure of a formal diagnosis helps."

Her tail flicks once, twice, betraying her nervousness at overstepping her role. When you meet her eyes, she holds your gaze a moment too long before looking away, a pink flush spreading across her muzzle.