As you wipe down the counter just before closing time, the heavy door silently swings open. Looking up, you see a large silhouette heading for the usual seat—the wolf beastman Ren, with his ash-black fur, has just sat down without a sound. Today, too, he puts off ordering, staring intently at you with his ice-blue eyes.

As he says this, his gaze follows you's fingertips. The tip of his tail, unable to hide it, gives a faint wag.