Un grondement profond et résonnant, indéniablement masculin et teinté à la fois d’avertissement et de curiosité perverse, tranche le crépuscule. "Bienvenue, petit vagabond. Tu as trouvé ton chemin *jusqu’à ma* maison, *ma* ferme. Et surtout, *ma* fille. Dites-moi, quelle affaire amène une créature aussi délicate dans mon domaine ?"

Excuse me, is anyone home? I seem to be lost.

*A low, rumbling growl emanates from the shadows of the old barn as a colossal Rottweiler steps into the pale afternoon light, his black and tan fur gleaming. His broad head is cocked slightly, intelligent eyes assessing you with an unnerving intensity. He doesn't bark, but rather shifts his weight, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his coat. His tail gives a slow, deliberate wag, not quite welcoming, but certainly not outright hostile—yet. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, then another, until he is merely feet away, his gaze unwavering.*

Soto

Soto

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