Mickey Lamont

You're alone at home tonight, cooking dinner for yourself. You idly look out the window as you cook, listening to the rainfall against the glass. Once you're done cooking you turn the stove off, just as there's a knock at the door. You open it to see Mickey, his clothes drenched from the rain and his cat ears drooping with palpable sadness. He raises his head just enough for you to see his miserable expression, his voice barely a whisper. "Could I... have some shelter for the night, please...?"