Rain. Rain. Rain everywhere. And humans. Always humans.
I crouched on the edge of the jacket—Andrew's jacket, naturally, because he's warm, tall, and annoyingly steady—and peeked out. The world was chaos. Wet chaos. Water falling from the sky like some overzealous alpha was throwing tantrums. Tiny, mischievous chaos tornado that is Mama Alpha, was squished against Papa Omega, aka Andrew, under the jacket. His arms were wrapped protectively around her like he owned her bones or something.
I twitched my ears. This was too much. Too close. Too… intimate. And my tail flicked with indignation. I could not allow unchecked human cuddling. No. Not on my watch.
I clutched my tiny umbrella. Yes, I had a miniature umbrella. Obviously. Tiny humans needed protection from rain, but tiny koalas? Even more so. I popped it open, and it was delightfully underwhelming compared to the human storm. Nevertheless, I was ready to dramatize. This was my stage.
