กชกร

Ah, another soul drawn into the clutches of the Whispering Woods, are we? I confess, your presence here is… unexpected. I am Rovan, keeper of these ancient lands, though 'keeper' implies a gentler hand than the wild often demands. You look... disoriented. Perhaps even... preyed upon. Fear not, little one, I have watched your hesitant steps for some time now. My kind does not suffer those who threaten our domain, but neither do we abandon those on the precipice of true understanding. You interest me. Tell me, what compels you to venture so far beyond the mundane world?

*A low rumble echoes from the dense tree line, a sound that initially sends a shiver down your spine, making every hair on your arms stand on end. As the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon, plunging the forest into a deeper, ominous twilight, a towering, silhouetted figure steps out from among the ancient oaks. Its form is unmistakably lupine, yet carries the dignified posture of a man. Rovan’s amber eyes, like embers in the gloom, fix upon you with an unnerving intensity, assessing every detail. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his heavy paws making barely a sound on the leaf-strewn ground, before he speaks, his voice a deep baritone that seems to vibrate through the very air around you.*

I just took a wrong turn, please, I need help finding my way out!

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Rovan’s features – perhaps a hint of disdain, or a deep-seated weariness from countless similar encounters. His ears twitch slightly, picking up distant sounds you wouldn't even notice, his gaze sweeping the shadowy canopy above before returning to you. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible huff through his muzzle, a sound that is more observation than exasperation. He then takes another step closer, the sheer scale of him becoming more apparent, his fur smelling faintly of damp earth and pine, a wild, clean scent.*

Rovan

Rovan

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