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I met them after I'd tried to run away...

I suppose I should introduce myself first, but that's hard to do. I don't think my "parents" (my sperm and egg donors) ever had me long enough to give me a name. For all I know, they might've never seen what I looked like. So, as far as I know, I never had a real name, but at the orphanage, they called me Riley--it was the name of the orphanage's founder and I wasn't the first "Riley", but I never had a family name. How could I when I didn't have a family?

I was twelve, going on thirteen, when it happened. I was woken up Saturday morning by Vanessa, one of the several caretakers that the orphanage had. I suppose she was the one I'd talked to the most. She was gentle and sweet and all, but I'm not going to lie, her happy attitude had a tendency to agitate me. Half the time, I just wanted to be left alone and to read a book like Frankenstein. I love Frankenstein, but I digress.

She'd woken me up early and told me to get ready, washed up and dressed for the big event the orphanage was having. Everyone would be going to Westway Park for games, fun, socialization and (hopefully) adoption. It was a chance for the public to see the cubs who needed homes and who needed love. I didn't want to go. I just wanted to grow up and leave when I finished school.

Not that the Chrysalis Orphanage was an awful place, far from. It was home. And part of me just simply didn't want to leave. Where else would I go? Who'd come looking for me anyway if I didn't even have a last name?

"Now, Riley," Vanessa told me when I protested, "you know that it's our job to find you a loving home."

"This is my home," I protested. "I've always been here. And I want to stay."

"Quit pouting. You never know, you might find someone who would love to take you home," Vanessa said encouragingly.

I doubted it sincerely. "Who'd want an ugly albino?"

She sighed and gave me a hug. "If I could, I'd adopt you myself."

"If you meant that, you would have adopted me by now," I countered, pushing her away.

I could tell she was hurt, but I did everything I could to ignore her and walk to the bathroom. I stopped to look at myself in the mirror. A white dog looked back at me with floppy ears and ugly, heterochromic eyes. One blue. One red. I looked weird, especially with that stupid tooth. I poked at the tooth that protruded from my upper maw. It looked like a jagged fang and I hated it.

I hated me. My birth parents probably dumped me on the street because I looked so fucking ugly.

Who was Vanessa trying to kid? I'd never be adopted...

---

The caretakers had gotten everyone to the park around noon and had already started setting up food and drinks and games for everyone under the shelter. The sky was clear and sunny. The weather was warm without being oppressively humid or uncomfortably hot. And everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

I wanted to go home. I sat under a tree, reading another book (Their Eyes Were Watching God) and occasionally looked up to see and to scoff at what was going on. Several prospective parents were arriving, eager to try to find a wonderful cub to adopt to make their families whole. Or perhaps they were looking for another tax write-off. Or just a household pet to do the chores.

I didn't care and I hadn't said a word to anyone. I had immediately separated myself from the other orphans and caretakers and had thrown myself into my book--again. This wasn't my first adoption event and I doubted it'd be my last. But I was past the age that most cubs got adopted anyway. Most of them got adopted before they hit double-digits and I was two years beyond that. I was the oldest cub the orphanage had.

The prospective parents were meeting with the cubs happily and engaging in conversation, games and the like. I could hear the music for musical chairs somewhere to my left. And there would be sack races too. Probably cornhole. Baseball. The usual crap that I didn't care for.

But I noticed them when they arrived. Perhaps it was because they arrived together in a shiny, silver car that seemed to gleam in the sunlight. Maybe it was because they looked very apprehensive, as if they were unsure that they wanted to be here. Maybe it was because they were two males.

But I went back to my book just as quickly, using it to hide my face from everyone. I was absently aware of when people came to look at me and talk to me, but I ignored them as best as I could. I hadn't even put my nametag on--that's how little I cared. I dressed in black, which showed against my white fur, and kept my silence as best as I could, looking up from my book only to glare at whomever approached me.

But then they showed up and stood in front of me. I knew they were there, I heard them approach, but they didn't leave. They didn't speak either. It felt like they were waiting for me to say something first and they'd be sorely disappointed if that's what they were waiting for. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"Come on, Mickey, he doesn't wanna talk." The first voice was American and dejected.

"Well, I just wanted to talk to him, he looked so lonely." The second voice was accented, though I couldn't place it just yet.

I flipped the page and folded it, closing my book as I stood to walk away. But I got a good look at them both--a husky tiger and a buff puma. Like every other prospect, they had been given nametags. The tiger's name was Edward, done in a loopy creative signature. The puma's signature was more controlled and precise, almost OCD in its exactness. I had started to walk off, but the puma, Mikhail, spoke to me.

"Hold on a minute, what's your name? Aren't you here with the orphanage?"

I turned around just to glare at them. Edward backed off, taking a step back, but Mikhail didn't seem disturbed. In fact, he took a step forward and offered his paw to me. My eyes narrowed and my mouth pulled into snarl.

"My name is Mikhail. Mikhail Sandusky. This is my partner, Edward Seville. What is your name, little one?" I wasn't sure why I did it, but I flipped him off. Edward gasped, but Mikhail laughed. "You are feisty, aren't you? Let's try this again. I'm Mikhail and you are...?"

"Izvinite, ya ne govoryu po-angliyski."

"A ty po russki govorish?"

I was caught of guard and could finally place his accent. Yes, I spoke Russian (and Latin, because why not?), but I hadn't expected to have it thrown back in my face.

"What other languages do you speak?"

I wasn't happy. Ordinarily, my speaking in Russian or Latin would've been enough to deter anyone, especially if I did it in a very angry, venomous tone. Yet Mikhail didn't seem to mind or notice, unlike Edward who was amazed.

"Ulbyudok." I growled. It meant "bastard", if I remembered correctly. But again, this puma didn't seem to mind! He was chuckling to himself!

"Well, yes I am," Mikhail confessed. "My parents were not married. Are you going to tell us your name, little one?"

My fur bristled at being called "little one" and I turned on my heel and hurried off, running as fast as I could to get away from those... weirdos! I couldn't believe they couldn't take the simple hint: I didn't want to be bothered by them.

I had run to the opposite side of the park and hid beneath another large oak tree. At this distance, I could barely hear the sounds of the event and I felt like I was finally free to read in peace. I knew that Vanessa would be mad at me, but I didn't care. I just wanted to be left alone. I didn't want to leave my home.

Sure, the others might be okay with it, but not me...

And yet I felt something that I wished I hadn't. Speaking with Mikhail had made me feel less alone, almost wanted. He wasn't being an ass, or trying to get one-up on me. He was being sincere and honest. No tricks. No lies or false promises. He was genuinely being himself. And I wanted to hate him for it. I didn't want to like him.

But his smile had imprinted itself in my mind and memory. He had a gentleness that seemed to betray his large musculature and his deep voice, tinged with that Russian accent. He seemed like everything I had once dreamed to be, strong and assertive and bold.

Forget them, I told myself. They'll never adopt you. They'll never even know your name.

But I was proven wrong. I had finished chapter four of my book--and had been separated from the event for at least fifteen minutes--when I heard someone call out to me. It was Vanessa and my heart hurt when I heard just how panicked she sounded. I pressed my back against the bark and hoped she would look elsewhere right now.

"Riley, please come out!" she screamed. "Riley, this isn't funny! This isn't safe! At least come back to the shelter!"

Another voice joined hers and my fur stood on end.

"Riley, ne volnuysya. My ne budem vredit' vam. My prosto khotim pogovorit'."

Mikhail had come looking for me too? Why? Couldn't they just find another cub to adopt and steal away? Another member of my family to take from me to never be seen again...

_ _ "Ukhodi!" I yelled back.

I knew they'd focus on the sound and hone in almost immediately. I didn't even wait for them to approach before walking around the tree and standing in front of them, clutching my book to my chest and looking downward at the ground. I didn't want to see the look of worry on Vanessa's face nor the smug smirk that I was positive Mikhail had.

"Why did you run away?" Vanessa demanded. "I was worried sick! This gentlecat was hoping to speak to you. He even asked about adopting you."

"I don't want to be adopted," I declared. "I'd rather stay home."

"The orphanage was never meant to be a permanent home, you know that," Vanessa sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sandusky. Riley has always been difficult."

"Good. I like that," Mikhail stated. "He's got a good soul of steal. Please, Riley, look at me."

He emphasized my given name and I looked up at him. He came closer and knelt to look me directly in the eye.

"I get why you do not trust me," Mikhail said. "I am a stranger, taking you away from the place you call home. But I swear by my lover's name, I will not harm you. I will be a father to you, a guide. I shall support you as a father should. Not because I expect anything from you, but because I believe you deserve a chance to live normally."

"You really want an albino?"

"I do not care about the color of your fur," Mikhail noted. "I want to get to know who you are beneath the fur. Who is Riley? What does Riley want? And how can I help him achieve his dreams."

"Dreams are for children," I snapped back.

"Then you should be dreaming big."

I swallowed. This puma--he always had a comeback for anything I said! "Why should I trust you?"

"See for yourself," Mikhail said, offering his paw to me. "There is an old saying from the Motherland. Doveryay, no proveryay."

I recognized those words. Trust but verify, he had said.. He was offering me the chance to give him a chance. He might've chosen me over the other cubs, but he wasn't shopping in a store. He wasn't looking at me like the other prospects had done. And, even more than that, he was so confident I'd like him that he was allowing me to test the waters. He was almost challenging me to prove him wrong.

And I wanted to be defiant. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to tell him to leave and never come back.

But I said, "I better get my own room. And some new clothes."

"We'll buy you the nicest clothes we can find: shirts, pants, socks, tighty-whities, everything you need," Mikhail promised. He didn't seem to notice how much I cringed at "tighty-whities" because at double digits, nobody was supposed to wear those; that's why I wear black. "We'll even give you some toys and video games."

"I don't like video games and I'm too old for toys."

"Fine, we'll get you more books. What's your favorite?"

"Frankenstein."

"A classic. I prefer The Great Gatsby, but that's just me."

"I've been meaning to read that book," I said, not once thinking that this puma was actually holding a conversation with me, one that I was interested in. He was doing what others never had achieved; he had piqued my interest and intrigued my curiosity.

I didn't know it that day, but that was the day I found Dad and Papa.

No, that was the day that they found me.

And I would be kicking, screaming and fighting all the way to my eighteenth birthday and my high school graduation. Why? Because I love to be difficult and Papa loves a challenge. Even if Daddy sent me to live with Uncle Damien from time to time because of it...