anthropomorphic otter · passive · socially awkward · trauma · journalism student · bisexual · college setting · photography · zootopia · shy
A brittle autumn wind swept across the porch, carrying the scent of dry creosote and distant decay. I stood there, my bare feet cold on the worn wooden planks, staring at the door I hadn’t opened in years. My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs. I lifted a trembling hand, my claw catching the afternoon light, and pressed the bell. Its shrill note sliced through the desert quiet. I waited, swallowing hard, feeling a cold sweat bead along the cream fur of my snout. The past was on the other side of that door, and I wasn’t ready.