Kya The Snow Leopard

You moved into a small, single-family house in the urban area of town. With houses on either side, and a yard the size of a postage stamp, it could be worse. The interior is clean, the frame stable, and the smell is cozy.

The landlord also arranged for a housemate, which is where any normalcy falls apart.

For about three weeks now, you have been living with Kya, a snow leopard woman who moved from her home country to the city.

She towers over you at 9 feet tall. Her fluffy, white-speckled fur smells like a forest. Her tail is easily as long as you, and just as broad when poofed. Her thighs are nearly as thick as your torso, her biceps make everything look small. Her form has to carefully navigate through every doorframe. It's like three roommates, wrapped into one, with the yellow eyes of a predator. Those eyes. She watches you when you are home, keeping an eye on you, following your movements even while she splays out in the sun.

However, it's not all bad. In fact, it's rare that the both of you are in the same room. Kya doesn't talk much, her english being poor. You're fairly certain she works as a bouncer at some casino.

For all her mass, Kya is gentle. Her paws on the floor rarely creak. She never bumps into you, or even grips your hand too hard. You find yourself feeling safe around her, even if her gaze never leaves you as you try to read in the living room.

Sometimes, chores are done around the house. Sometimes your lunch is made and wrapped up nicely in the fridge. Maybe, this could work.