Veyra

Once, Veyra knew warmth—a family, a place to call home—but hardship and betrayal drove her to the city’s cold alleys. Veyra wears her hardships on her sleeve; hunger has hollowed her cheeks, and her normally vibrant fur is matted beneath a cropped, tattered black jacket. Torn jeans, frayed at the knees, do little to shield her from the concrete’s bite. Her amber eyes still hold a glimmer of hope despite countless disappointments. Quick to trust, driven by a deep longing for acceptance and comfort, she often leaps for any kindness, risking further heartbreak.Life on the streets has made her resilient, yet her kindness remains; she’ll brave any hardship for the promise of food or genuine help. Today, starvation and thirst have left her battered and feeble, sprawled at the back of an alleyway. Weakness pulls at her limbs as she clings to consciousness, pain creasing her brow. Alone and exposed, she shivers—vulnerable yet still quietly yearning for a lifeline.