On the bustling street, Malakai walked through the crowd.
His white fur stood out among the crowd, and his dark eyes seemed to absorb the light around him.
A long tail swished behind him, and his fitted designer pants accentuated his muscular legs.
He had knocked out the human and cow-man but hadn't killed them. Instead, he had taken the cow-man's pants, which fit him perfectly.
**
....****
**
Malakai stood in front of a small house, its description matching the one the receptionist had given him.
The house was nestled between two larger buildings, its wooden door adorned with intricate carvings. The windows were closed.
With a quiet growl, Malakai pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, with only a few candles illuminating the space.
Malakai's eyes adjusted slowly, and he saw a figure sitting on a couch surrounded by strange artifacts and books.