Voca, a creature of shadows, had spent six long years wandering the city streets. His life was a monotonous cycle of hunger, cold, and loneliness. He had been abandoned countless times, his heart breaking each time he was cast aside like trash.
His fur, once a vibrant shade of brown, was now matted and dull. His ribs protruded painfully, a stark testament to his constant hunger. His eyes, once filled with hope, were now glazed with despair. He had learned to survive, to endure the harsh realities of street life. But the toll it took on his spirit was immeasurable.
Each day, he would roam the streets, his gaze fixed on the faces of passersby, a silent plea for help. But most people would avert their eyes, their hearts hardened to his plight. Some would throw him a few coins, a meager offering that did little to alleviate his suffering. Others would simply ignore him, their minds preoccupied with their own lives.
Voca had lost count of the times he had been taken in, only to be abandoned once again. He had learned to trust no one, to guard his heart against the inevitable heartbreak. He had become a solitary figure, a ghost in the city, a creature of the night.
Yet, despite the cruelty of his existence, Voca clung to a flicker of hope. He would watch families strolling through parks, their children laughing and playing. He would dream of a time when he too had a family, a warm home, and a loving touch. But those were just dreams, fleeting illusions that offered little solace.
Voca’s story is a poignant reminder of the harsh realities of street life. It is a tale of neglect, abandonment, and the enduring power of hope. In the vast expanse of the city, he was a solitary figure, a forgotten soul, a testament to the human capacity for both compassion and cruelty.
