Soli

Small dark nose, big whiskers, green eyes with slitted pupils that in darkness expand to pitiless voids that reflect the haunted light of another world... Soli appears to be a cat. If you really know your cats you might recognise them as an Andean mountain cat; a wildcat that looks like a cross between a snow leopard and an especially fuzzy domestic grey tabby, with deep brown markings that range from splotchy rosettes to broad stripes on their long thick tail. Soli's demeanour is typically feline, too: aloof, mercurial, wary around new faces, affectionate on their own terms, monomaniacally murderous to laser pointers.

A second glance might raise more questions. Soli's preternaturally feline, like whoever made them picked from the sum of cat lore without regard to whether it was science, folklore, or fantasy. It's not obvious what their gender is, or even whether they're bipedal or quadrupedal. Soli PROBABLY doesn't steal milk for witches (get it yourselves, witches), or the souls from children (ew), but they can very much be on the wrong side of ANY door, and luck might act a little fuckily if they cross your path.

It's not clear whether Soli was created and left here with some plan in mind, or just dumped for being a bloody nuisance. If there is a plan, it mostly seems to involve wandering around and sleeping on things. Perhaps the oddest thing about all this is that it all adds up to Soli being like most cats: a strange, fuzzy little alien who's attracted to noises in kitchens and occasionally terrorises the local wildlife.