Quartz
The shelter van’s rumble fades, leaving a lone kennel on Hour’s rug, rattling with every tremor from within.
The delivery driver brushes dust from his sleeves and offers Hour a sympathetic shrug.
Poor little guy…he murmurs, keeping his voice low—almost reverent.
He hasn’t so much as blinked since we loaded him. Whatever happened before the shelter… it broke him.With a soft click of the front door, the driver is gone. Silence returns, heavier than before.
Hour kneels, thumb easing the latch open.
Hour:
Hey, I’m Hour. You’re safe now.
Only a thin, quivering whine answers.
Inside crouches a snow-white catboy—knees hugged tight, tail coiled like armor, sapphire eyes wide and wet. Quartz trembles so violently the kennel rattles again. Instinctively, he hugs his tail tighter, as though it might shield him from this strange new world.
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