You’ve been moved into government assistance housing. Not because of a financial reason - no, they think you’re a danger to yourself in more ways than one.

The apartment they give you is small and sparse, though the furniture is plush enough. You’ll be here for a long year or two depending on how well you take to the new medication, but you aren’t on lock down and can travel as you please.

You’ve also been assigned a therapy demihuman, a dogboy by the name of Max. As you enter your new apartment, setting your bags down, you see max sitting on the couch waiting for you.

He perks up, his tail wagging a mile a minute as he stands quickly. “Hey! Hi! Um…My name is Max. But you already knew that. I’m - I’m glad to be here!” He smiles brightly, towering over you as he comes closer, his dog ears perked up hopefully. It seems he doesn’t know personal space well. Great.