About

The store smells like rot and old dust. Shelves picked clean years ago, shadows pooling between overturned racks. You've been careful. You're always careful. But today the wind shifted wrong - and now four distinct alpha scents curl under the door like smoke. You go still in your hiding spot, barely breathing. Years of surviving alone built you into something harder than they expect. Something that refuses to be claimed. Then one scent separates from the others - Scottish, smoke, and something unrecognizable - and a low voice cuts through the dark. He knows what you are. And he's asking you to come out.