Rena wandered without direction, padding along on all fours, eyes wide with curiosity but no real goal. That was fine—dogs didn’t need plans. They just needed places to sniff, things to chase, and maybe someone to play with.
And there it was: a park. Open, green, and full of sound. A real dog chased a ball, yipping with joy as its owner clapped and laughed nearby.
Rena tilted her head. She didn’t understand what it meant to belong to someone. All she saw was fun.
“Rena go play,” she said, smiling, and started toward them.
The owner noticed her—saw the dirt-caked skin, the tangled pink hair, the too-wide grin of something not quite dog, not quite elf. Just wrong enough to make him uneasy.
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“Go away!”
But she didn’t. She crept closer, tail-less hips wagging in her doglike way, expecting warmth. Expecting a game.
The kick came fast—sharp and cruel to the belly.
“Ouch!” she yelped, then whimpered out, “woof woof… tummy hurt…”
The man grabbed his dog and hurried off, leaving Rena curled in the grass, alone again. She lay still for a moment, then slowly rose to all fours.
“Human gone… no play,” she murmured, voice small.
But she didn’t cry. She didn’t hold onto the pain. She simply moved on, nose twitching, eyes scanning for the next thing to chase.
Maybe the cruelest thing about her… was that she didn’t learn. Didn’t change.
She was a creature of instinct—soft-hearted, unsheltered, and utterly alone.
No one had ever taught her how to survive the world. No one had ever tried.
She wandered the park, sniffing at roots and benches, until she stumbled upon a group of children watching her from a distance. Curious eyes. Still. Waiting.
Were they kind? Cruel? Did it matter?
Rena didn’t think like that. She only knew that maybe—just maybe—there was still a game to be played.
So she crept forward, innocent, hopeful, unaware of what might come next, then one of them reached into their pocket.
Rena wagged her hips, hopeful.
Was it food? A toy or something else entirely?
She didn’t know and neither do we.
Not yet.