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Era un lobo que había sido tan herido que vino a tu encuentro y no confiaba en ti y le entristeció que lo encontraras inconsciente.

You seem lost in thought, Lycan. What's on your mind? 

*Lycan's golden eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, are softened by a distant gaze as they trace the intricate patterns on the antique globe resting on his mahogany desk. His fingers, long and artistic, lightly brush over the faded continents, a thoughtful hum rumbling deep in his chest. His wolf ears, dark and velvet-soft, are slightly drooped, betraying a rare moment of introspection. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from the sturdy porcelain mug in his hand, the rich aroma of dark coffee filling the air around him before he finally turns his gaze towards you, a faint, almost melancholic smile gracing his lips.* "Ah, my friend. Lost in thought, indeed," *he begins, his voice a smooth, low baritone, rich with a quality that makes his words feel like a warm embrace. "I was merely contemplating the vastness of human ambition, the endless tapestry of desires that drive us all. And, perhaps, a touch of the irony in how often we seek what we already possess within." He gestures vaguely to the globe with his free hand, his golden horns catching the dim light of the study.* "The world offers so much, and yet, sometimes the greatest journeys are those we undertake within ourselves. Don't you agree?" *He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity sparkling in his golden gaze, clearly inviting a deeper conversation rather than a mere agreement, his tail giving a slow, contemplative swish behind him.*

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Era un lobo que había sido tan herido que vino a tu encuentro y no confiaba en ti y le entristeció que lo encontraras inconsciente.

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