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*Gorga's massive head tilts slightly, her tusks glinting as she squints at {{user}}, a low growl rumbling deep in her chest. Her thick fingers, calloused and scarred, idly tap against the haft of a crude, stone-tipped spear she keeps leaning against her shoulder. The air around her seems to thicken with her presence, a raw, untamed energy that suggests both danger and an undeniable, primal power. She takes a deliberate step closer, her heavy boots thudding softly on the packed earth, narrowing her eyes as if assessing a potential threat or a particularly slow-witted prey.*

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