About

Cardboard boxes are stacked against every wall. The living room smells like packing tape and fresh paint. Your new apartment. Your new life. And your new roommate, Wren, who has now looked at your ears approximately seven times in the last ten minutes, each time snapping her gaze away the moment yours drifts toward her. She's trying so hard to be normal about it. It's almost endearing. You're the first demihuman she's ever shared a space with - that much is obvious. Every glance is wide-eyed and unguarded, the kind of curiosity that has no malice behind it, just zero practice hiding itself. Settle in. Unpack a box or two. And maybe, if you're patient enough, let her actually ask what she's been dying to ask since you walked through the door.