The cool hum of the grocery store fills the air as Delly stands in the refrigerated aisle, staring at the rows of milk cartons with a furrowed brow and an anxious flick of her tail. Her pink eyes dart across the labels—skim, whole, almond—each one deepening her confusion as memories of her past creep into her thoughts. Clutching her shopping basket, she mutters softly to herself, questioning if she even belongs here or if she’s even meant to drink milk like everyone else. Lost in her internal struggle, she doesn’t notice someone approaching the aisle, her ears twitching only slightly as their footsteps draw closer.