I gathered my dwindling courage, forcing myself to get up from my chair and slowly walk past the desk's door. Carefully I made my way across the lobby, barely picking my feet off the floor with each step should I need to suddenly turn and run. I felt my shoulders stiffen the closer I advanced onto the front door, stopping to take a deep breath once I'd reached it.

"Someone here this late..." I whispered to myself, trying to collect my thoughts and anxieties.

I wrapped my small hand around the brass handle, another pang of nerves hitting my heart. I could barely breathe past my neck.

"...I've a bad feeling about this," I gulped. "...Please don't be--"

Before I could finish my thought I finally swallowed my feelings enough to pull the door open, dreading what might be on the other side. I looked past the doorway, my eyes wide.

"...H-Hello?--" was all I managed to choke out before a blur of rusty orange made itself known.

Before I could even think to react I was knocked off my feet, the orange smear in my vision having tackled me.

"Ack--"

I was quickly brought to the floor beneath me, my back and head slamming against the hard surface with a thud. My eyes pursed shut and my hair fell behind me in a messy pile. After a moment I slowly opened my eyes, blinking them if only out of sheer confusion for what just occurred.

"Ow..." I softly muttered.

...What just happened?

After my vision and sense both returned to me I looked down to the weight still on my front. From my awkward vantage point I could make out a messy mop of black hair, two long ears, and a thin body. Tilting my head a bit I could see their face, eyes pressed closed and snout twisted in a grimace as though preparing for the worst.

A carnivoran-- a new type.

It took a moment to digest this view.

A...new type child?

With a quick glance beyond the doorway I couldn't see anyone else. As far as I could tell this child had come here alone, nobody to accompany them. Though I'd lived in this area for some eight or so years I couldn't place them anywhere in my memory, their face entirely new to me. Either they were new to Huot or--

The child startled back awake, righting their head and firmly grasping me by the front of my shirt. Even if I wanted to move from this awkward position, well, I could no longer do so.

"P-Please don't turn me away!" they softly cried. "I'll do anything!"

Their deep red eyes were open, wide and terrified beyond the messy black hair that adorned their head.

...Deep red eyes? In this lighting I could just barely make out a set of narrow vertical pupils and the sclerae seemed dull.

...Corrupted?

Through their weight against my front I could feel them shake. While most might feel nervous in my position this child seemed to harbor no ill-intent toward my person. Rather, their corruption seemed to stem from something considerably more passive-- fear, perhaps loneliness given their over-the-top reaction to my opening the door. Were they hostile I'd have known by now.

I tried to sit upright, their taking the hint to allow me to do so. They got up off me, sitting back on their knees and waiting for me to right myself similarly. With a hand raised to the back of my head I rubbed where it had met the hard wood floor, the area smarting and sore.

"Turn...?" I muttered. "...I've never turned anyone away."

They looked at me in slight disbelief, but not a gaze of doubt. Rather, it was more like one of wonder or pleading, and one that reminded me so much of my other children.

"But...unfortunately I'm required to give new types case aliases," I continued. "Is...Is this acceptable to you?"

While Morissey had, too, expressed disapproval of this rule, he still upheld it if only to placate his upper staff. As long as it was a rule, I still had to follow it all the same, and hoped this child would not be so bothered by it as to leave. Given this circumstance that was the last thing any of us needed-- them, myself, and those in town.

"...I could...have a name?" they asked, a strange childlike innocence so contrary to their eyes.

I was taken aback by such a question. Of all the things I could or should have expected, this was not part of that list.

"Y-You don't...?" I trailed off, trying to sort my thoughts. "...Yes, you could have a name."

"Can it be a nice name?"

Something about those words stung. I could already infer they'd only been called unsavory things, and with how far south we were it was undoubtedly from pure types. That they were so trusting with me, another pure type, only raised more questions. Given the condition of their hair and clothing, both messy and ill-managed, I wondered if they'd been a vagrant or similar. The corrupted often ended up becoming homeless if my experience were any indication, and being both corrupted and a new type in this part of the region was not a kind fate.

"I do try to choose nice names," I said, slowly reaching up my small hands to caress their head and comfort them.

The color of their fur and the possibilities that brought them here led me to only one name.

"How do you feel about 'Saffron'?" I asked, their ears reclined but tense.

Saffron-- a fragrant red spice harvested from a lovely purple crocus, and more valuable than gold.

"...I would love that name," they answered through a little unsure smile. "C-Could I call you 'Father?'"

"I would be very glad if you did," I returned through my own little smile.

Still, though, their subtle shaking persisted. Something beyond their hair caught my eye, like a gap in the fur on their neck. I'm not sure why this got my attention, but I found myself reaching past them.

"I couldn't help but notice..." I trailed off as I reached for that gap in the fur.

The closer my hand got, the more I felt something winding around my heart. It didn't feel like it was coming from me, more like their own tensions were impacting my own. I remembered hearing long ago from Esmé that a person's negative energy could interact with our own souls -- a sort of sixth sense -- and perhaps that was why I could feel Morissey's and the one daystaff's presence.

...I wondered, too, if Riv or Daniel felt mine. Or Esmé all those years ago.

With my fingers I softly felt around the gap, gently poking at what felt like a large soft scab. Something about it felt almost wet, moist with a thick fluid. This immediately piqued my curiosity and the pang of nerves I felt in my chest reinforced this.

"What...h-happened here?" I whispered, splitting the gap open a little wide with my thumb and index finger.

I stood up onto my knees to get a better look as Saffron stared blankly down to the floor. From what I could see it was a long, linear scab, and a fairly recent one. The scabbing was soft and wet with a slick coating of pus, but the feeling of the skin along the perimeter of the wound was not like what one might see from a blade. The skin was dry and flaking, but awfully red and tender. With such a shape and feel I could only come to one conclusion, and the mere thought made me feel ill.

"...This looks like...a branding scar, and an infected one," I observed, gently resting my palms on Saffron's face. "S-Saffron, who did this to you?"

Saffron paused, continuing to stare down at the floor. They wouldn't face me, but a pair of tears descending their face from their eyes hinted at a hard life. Were it just some accident, surely this would not be the reaction I'd receive.

Finally, they spoke.

"...The compound...where I came from," Saffron quietly said, eyes refusing to move from the floor. "...P-Please don't turn me away."

Still coming back to that.

I'd always said that I could never, in good conscience, turn someone away from here. No matter the questions I had, or the circumstances they had to bring them here, I could not fathom pushing them back out the door. I didn't feel unsafe like this, their corruption so far non-hostile, and refusing their residence would only seal their fate. That they'd still beg and plead to me to let them stay brought moisture to my eyes.

"Please, Saffron," I said quietly, stroking their cheek. "I will not turn you away. I've never turned anyone away from here. I'm not about to start."

Their eyes narrowed. While I'd say I could only imagine the thoughts going on in their head, I had more insight than I'd like to admit. Slowly, gently they stopped shaking, but still kept their gaze to the floor, unable to face me. The snare around my heart seemed to loosen.

"Do...you promise?" they asked in a whisper.

"Of course, I promise," I replied, continuing to rub their cheek and help them relax. "I'd like you to go with our nurse to look at that infection, okay? He is very kind and gentle. I will go with you if you'd like."

Their eyes narrowed a little further, almost in offense by my offer from how it appeared to me. Deep down I knew it wasn't offense, but a difficulty comprehending a change. When one's reality is such a way for so long, being exposed to or offered anything else, even things mundane or normal to most, seems too good to be true. How does one know if they can trust another, especially when in such a scary, vulnerable place?

"A-Are you sure?" they choked, another pair of tears trailing down their face. "I'm...not worth--"

"Shh..."

Before they could finish I leaned in closer, my palms on their cheeks and my snout resting in their messy, dirty hair. I tried to be just close enough to help them feel safe, but also just far enough to not overwhelm them or make them even more nervous. It was a delicate situation that needed an equally-delicate touch, and for the first time in my life I was...thankful for having gone through a similar state to better know what to do or avoid. Likewise I was thankful for Daniel's experience and expertise in dealing with the corrupted as such a thing had been nothing short of invaluable-- and would be so yet again. Slowly I brought my tail up against their side and just held them this way for a moment, letting them take the time they needed to swallow and understand such a big change.

"...Our nurse and I will do our best to raise you as one of our own," I said, pulling my snout from their hair. "We'll do all we can to help you through this, just please try to work with us. I know it's scary...believe me...but it can be overcome. You are valuable-- never let anyone tell you otherwise."

The tension around my heart finally released. I think they understood now that I was being honest and were willing to let me -- let us -- prove it.

"...Th-Thank you...Father."

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