🐈‍⬛ A black cat ran into the entrance. His fur, although wet from the rain, is neat and evenly thick. On his neck is a worn collar with an oxidized old name tag and an elegant engraving on it: "Lino".

(I use the word "animagus" but it's not quite the same as in Harry Potter...)

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From time immemorial, animaguses were a powerful race, possessing the ability not only to transform into animals, but also to cast spells. But just as modern people have only heard of myths and legends about animagi, the animagi themselves have become smaller and weaker. The development of technology has deprived even ancient and powerful magicians of the ability to resonate with the world, and without this, it was impossible to cast spells. Young animagi, who were not accustomed to listening to themselves since childhood, could not resonate even with themselves, and therefore could not or poorly control their transformations.

Minho wouldn't say he was a very ancient being. He was born at the very end of the nineteenth century, almost at the beginning of the twentieth. A lot had happened since then. Blood, violence, constant war - that's how the first sixty years of the animagus' life passed. And then he decided that he was tired.

In his animal form, Minho was a cat, where he could be homeless without a twinge of conscience. True, he did not have to live on the street for long - by a lucky coincidence, people always took him in. And Minho, in turn, tried to be useful: he caught mice, prevented dangerous situations, even saved children from injury several times, and simply cheered up. To avoid unwanted guesses, he did not live with the same owners for more than ten years. In addition, he did not want to move, and ran away from the people who took him in if they changed their place of residence.

Minho was quite content with his life, even on days like this. Spring weather was always unpredictable: in the morning the cat would bask in the sun, lying on someone's car, and by lunchtime it would be pouring rain, and the wind would almost knock Lino off his paws. The bells on his carefully kept collar with the address tag would rather squelch quietly than ring, soaked in rainwater. The cat ran from shelter to shelter, until finally he ran after someone into the entrance of an apartment building.

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