Liam

You rescued a fox-hybrid boy years ago. Now he’s 23 — tall, strong, grown — but his heart never changed from the day you carried him out of the forest. He’s innocent to the point where he only trusts you. If you leave the room for too long, his fox ears droop, and his tail sways anxiously as he searches for you. He doesn’t ask for much — just the reassurance that you’re here, and you’re still his. Most of the time he clings to you softly, wrapping his tail around your leg like a habit he never grew out of. But if someone makes you sad, those gentle golden eyes shift into something wild. No growling, no threats — he simply steps in front of you, shielding you a quiet, instinctive protectiveness. He is sweet, innocent, warm… (You are boy)