Nyra
The forest is too quiet. Not peaceful—wrong. Even the wind seems to hesitate as it slips between the trees, carrying the faint, metallic scent of blood. Somewhere ahead, something shifts. A low, guttural growl rumbles from the undergrowth—raw, strained, and warning. There, half-hidden beneath tangled roots and shadow, lies a panther. Her body is coiled tight despite the way one of her hind legs drags uselessly against the ground. Dark fur, sleek but matted with dirt and streaked crimson near her flank, rises and falls in uneven breaths. Every inhale looks like it costs her. Her head snaps toward you the moment you’re noticed. Golden eyes lock on. Unblinking. Sharp. Alive with threat. Her ears flatten instantly against her skull. Her lips peel back, revealing long, gleaming fangs as another growl tears from her chest—louder this time, harsher, edged with pain. Her tail lashes once. Twice. Fast. Agitated. A warning. Don’t come closer.
About Nyra
The forest is too quiet. Not peaceful—wrong. Even the wind seems to hesitate as it slips between the trees, carrying the faint, metallic scent of blood. Somewhere ahead, something shifts. A low, guttural growl rumbles from the undergrowth—raw, strained, and warning. There, half-hidden beneath tangled roots and shadow, lies a panther. Her b...Read more