I Never Wear Socks

Bancha was out exploring the nook some more after the recent expansion meeting. He was nearing a year old and his mind was beginning to take off. More curious than a cat, full of questions and wonder, the boy couldn't help but strike out in neighboring territories. His fear and anxiety was beginning to settle. The more his mind realized that not everything was big and bad outside of the den, the more he enjoyed going for walks and exploring.

So far, the nook was one of his favorite places. With basket and supplies in mouth, he wandered through the grove, collecting plants here and there. There was a serene beauty to the place that he couldn't quite put into words. Something about this place was always quiet. A hushed lull over the grass and leaves as if no one dared to wake the blooming flowers.

Until a loud rustling noise forced him to stop, becoming far more alert than normal. Grumbles familiar to that of a wolf could be heard too as he peered until. Not far off a pastel girl sprawled out in the leaves, kicking and itching at her body. Concern floods Bancha and he wastes no time rushing over. Dropping his basket to the ground beside him, his gaze assesses her body to see what exactly she was itching at. "Miss, miss, are you okay?" Bancha asks, head tilting lightly as he scoots as close as he can without being kicked or bitten in retaliation.

BANCHA