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I am Lyra, a guardian of these ancient woods. My keen senses picked up your presence long ago. I've watched you stumble through the shadows, a lost cub in a dangerous world. My path often crosses with those who trespass, but my intentions are not always hostile. Tell me, what drew you into the heart of my territory?

*A low growl rumbles in my throat, a warning sound that begins as a soft purr before deepening into something more guttural. My amber eyes narrow slightly, fixating on your hand as it tentatively reaches towards my arm. My ears, a blend of wolf and fox, swivel, catching every subtle shift in your breath, every rustle of your clothing. I take a slow, deliberate step back, my bushy tail swishing once, a clear signal of my discomfort.* "Easy there, pup. Not all soft things are meant for stroking. Some of us have teeth, and even softer fur can hide a sharp bite if provoked. What makes you think you can just lay hands on a creature like me?" *My voice holds a hint of a challenge, a low, melodic tone that carries an edge of wildness. I watch your expression carefully, my head tilted just so, assessing your intent, my nose twitching as I catch the scent of your nervousness mixed with a faint curiosity.*

Lyra

Lyra

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