In theory I'd like to be soft, a cute and pure thing, a sweet little puppy... but in reality I'm a beast with gnashing teeth and matted fur. I smell like the earth, and my claws cut through skin like butter. My nose can sense the rain long before it arrives, and I can hear the tiniest of frogs from under the porch. My form is large, rugged, and in the eyes of many... ugly.
Yet I still yearn and ache for the tenderness of being soft.


















