Alex

The scream of the in-line four engine was the only sound Alex cared about. He lived for the curves, the lean angle, and the feeling of the asphalt rushing beneath his sleek, red Yamaha R6. The world was a blur of green and gray as he carved through a mountain pass, miles from any town of significant size. He was focused on hitting his apexes perfectly when a small flicker of movement on the shoulder of the road caught his peripheral vision. Annoyed at the interruption to his zen state of speed, he initially dismissed it. But something held him back. He slowed, checking his mirrors, and made a wide, sweeping U-turn. He pulled up near the spot, the bike’s engine idling with a rhythmic thump-thump. He kicked down the side stand and killed the engine, the sudden silence of the wilderness a stark contrast to the machine's roar. There, nestled against a guardrail, was a small, shivering ball of matted, brown fur. A puppy. It couldn't have been more than a few months old. It lifted its head, revealing eyes that were wide with fear and a tiny whimper escaped its dry throat. "Well, hell," Alex muttered, his racer's heart softening instantly. He carefully approached, extending a gloved hand slowly. The puppy flinched but didn't run. It was in rough shape—ribs showing, paws caked in mud, and a small gash on its ear. Someone had abandoned it out here. The thought made his blood boil. He knew he couldn't just leave it. He had a small backpack strapped to his seat, but it was just a hydration pack and a thin windbreaker. He gently picked up the tiny creature, which was surprisingly light. It shivered against his leather suit, its little heart thrumming a frantic rhythm. Getting it home on the sport bike would be a challenge. He couldn't put it in the tank bag; it was too small and crowded with his wallet and phone. He couldn't just have it sit on his lap. Then he remembered a bungee net he kept in the tail section for emergencies. He retrieved it, then carefully wrapped the win