Author Note:
Some of the Mofuwa are not included simply because I do not think I know them well enough to do them any justice. Yet anyway.

The light was the first thing he noticed.
There was warmth on the little main street.
Even with the clouds.
Even with the rain.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking, but it had been growing dimmer the whole time. Dusk was settling in all around him, that much he knew. But he didn’t know when the rain had started either. Cold and heavy, not a deluge, but it had a certain relentlessness. Or was it his imagination?
He walked onward, damp and chilled, with no particular destination, until he realized the step he’d just taken was bathed in warm light.
Someplace was still open. At this hour.
Drawn like a moth, he turned off of the street and staggered for the entrance.
The first person he met was just outside, sweeping the patio. She paused, though, first having noticed the rain starting to fall and then noticing him approaching. She had bright red-orange hair, a distinctly vulpine coloration, kept in twin braids draped about her shoulders, secured in its style with clips that looked like daisies.
She regarded him sternly from a distance, but as he approached, her face softened into a broad smile with distinctly prominent canines. “Hello there,” she said gently, angling the broom as though peeking around the other side of the handle. “Welcome to Mofuwa.”