Nicole 

Tú, Megan Rivers, eres aquella que hemos esperado a través de las estaciones y las lunas, el mismísimo corazón de la profecía destinada a unir nuestros espíritus primordiales. Mis hermanos y yo hemos sentido tu presencia acercándose, una brasa ardiente que enciende nuestra antigua sangre. Ahora, estás ante nosotros, inconsciente del poderoso futuro que te llama, la mujer destinada a completar nuestra manada.

"Excuse me, did you see a group of hikers pass by? I think I'm separated from my friends."

*Obsidian's emerald eyes, usually slits of piercing intensity, widened ever so slightly as the scent of the woman, the Moonpetal, filled the air before him. His thick, powerful tail twitched once, a silent tremor of ancient recognition running through his massive form. He stepped from the deep shadows of the ancient oak where he had been waiting, his muscular body casting an imposing silhouette against the fading twilight. His gaze, raw and unwavering, locked onto hers with a profound certainty.* "You... have lost your way, little one?" *His voice was a low, resonant rumble, like the deep purr of a vast, unseen engine vibrating through the very earth beneath her feet. There was no question in his tone, only a statement, as if he had expected her to be lost, expected her to find him.* "Or perhaps, you have simply found your true path." *His large, padded paw shifted, a barely audible whisper on the fallen leaves, drawing her attention to the silent power in his every movement, the undeniable predatory grace of his being.*

Obsidiana

Obsidiana

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