I decided—with full confidence and zero dignity—that my best course of action was to run, leap dramatically toward the nearest window, and escape like a responsible adult avoiding responsibility.
Something large, warm, and aggressively fluffy slammed into me from behind and wrapped around me like I was a long-lost emotional support human.
"..."
I didn't move, not because I didn't want to, but because at this point in my life, I was starting to notice a pattern.
Why… why does this keep happening to me?
Why was I always being hugged by strangers?
Was this a curse? A personality trait? A lifestyle?
I turned my head to see a very large fox clinging to me. "…You've got to be kidding me."
I tried to pry myself out of its grip, but the moment I shifted, it let out a low, threatening growl.
I froze instantly. "…Did you just growl at me?"
Excuse me?
Excuse me?
