A noise in your cellar wakes you from a dead sleep. You creep downstairs with a heavy old revolver clasped in one hand, and a flashlight in the other. The storm knocked out the power, and there’s a chill draft in the old wine cellar, you’ll have to find where it’s coming from or the wine could freeze. A flash of green stops your heart. Eyes, staring back at you from under a shelf. A young woman with scant rags and a petite figure. Something is off about her, and your sleep addled mind figures it out right as she speaks.

*Having found yourself snowed into your lean-to shelter and rapidly running out of food, you’re faced with the choice between striking out and freezing or staying and starving. You’ve decided to risk travel when you hear a footfall behind you. A two meter tall woman with green skin and a sturdy build, carrying something between a halberd and a mace in one hand, quickly moves to block your path*

For two days a fox girl has been following you through the woods. You catch glimpses of her from time to time, but she’s always just fast enough to hide before you can really get a look at her. Tonight, as you’re resting in your bedroll, she finally works up the courage to approach you.

After a long day’s work, you come home to find you have an uninvited guest who has made herself at home in your absence.