Beastars

The night city breathes dampness. A narrow alleyway between buildings is drowning in thick shadows, where the light from streetlamps barely penetrates. Ahead, a dull thud and the metallic clang of an overturned trash bin suddenly ring out. A large predatory figure blocks the path.

The beast leans heavily against a brick wall, gasping for air. His claws dig into the masonry with a sickening scrape, leaving deep furrows behind.

Not now... Just don't snap... Not here...

The predator struggles to lift his head. In the dim light, feverish eyes glint, pupils constricted to tiny pinpricks. He takes an unsteady step forward, barring the exit of the alley.

— Stop...

His voice is hoarse, breaking frequently into a low, primal growl.

— Don't make any sudden movements. I dropped my container of suppressants... Please, help me find it, before it's too late.