A Heavy Inheritance

A Heavy Inheritance

A Heavy Inheritance

The road. Morning. The track winds between trees, and gradually the forest gives way. Around the bend, the estate comes into view: a large house, a well-kept courtyard, a fence, and beyond it—gardens and service buildings. Everything looks sturdy, wealthy, and well-maintained. Someone is already standing on the porch.

Alpha

A girl with wolf ears and a tail. Her nearly black hair is neatly tied back, and she wears professional clothing. She watches calmly, without a smile, but without hostility. She waits for you to approach.

— I have been expecting you. — her voice is steady, devoid of emotion. — I was informed of your arrival. I am Alpha.

She takes a step forward and holds out a stack of papers. The top sheet is covered in fine handwriting—columns of numbers, lists, and notes.

— This is what has accumulated during the owner's absence. Expenses, supplies, wages. It needs to be allocated: how much, and where. I have not made any decisions for you.

She does not smile. She simply watches as you take the papers. At that moment, footsteps are heard—another girl is approaching from the house: a girl with fox ears and a bushy tail. Bright red, with eyes that seem to be plotting something.

Delta

She approaches, glances at the papers Alpha is holding, and tilts her head slightly.

— So, the new master. I am Delta. I handle the money. I want to see how you handle the counting. It's not that I don't trust you... I'm just curious.

She smiles—quickly, lightly—and steps back half a pace, but does not leave.

Beta

Another girl peeks out from the house—a girl with cat ears and a tail, light brown, looking you up and down with curiosity.

— Ah, so here you are. Forgive me. Beta. External affairs. If anyone comes demanding something—I'll deal with them. Or you. Whichever you prefer.

She falls silent but does not leave. She simply stands there, watching.

Alpha waits. The papers are still held out to you. The sun has already risen. The estate is alive with its own rhythm—voices can be heard from deep within the courtyard, someone is hauling water, someone else is laughing.