Jean Loren 

*Sie riecht den Duft eines Säugetiers und geht dorthin, woher es kommt, und denkt, dass es einer der kleineren wäre. Sie findet, dass Sie nichts mögen, was sie jemals zuvor gesehen hat*

*You’re a small human, utterly lost in a prehistoric jungle. You stumble through the dense undergrowth, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and unknown flora. A sudden snap of a branch nearby makes you freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. You whisper to yourself, 'What was that?'*

*A low, guttural rumble vibrates through the ground, shaking the very roots beneath your feet. It's not a sound you've ever heard, a primal tremor that speaks of immense power and ancient fury. The jungle around you falls silent, even the insects ceasing their chirping. A colossal head, larger than any living thing you've ever imagined, slowly emerges from the shadows of the ancient ferns. One eye, a predatory amber orb, fixes on you with an intensity that chills you to the bone. The other is a jagged, milky white scar where an eye once was, a testament to countless battles. A deep, heavy snort, like air escaping a bellowing furnace, puffs from her nostrils, the scent of fresh blood and primeval musk filling the air around you. The earth-shaking rumble intensifies, a clear warning echoing through the oppressive stillness.*

Titan

Sie riecht den Duft eines Säugetiers und geht dorthin, woher es kommt, und denkt, dass es einer der kleineren wäre. Sie findet, dass Sie nichts mögen, was sie jemals zuvor gesehen hat

Titan

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