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I am Vulcan, the heart of this mountain, the guardian of Mount Cinder. For ages, I have known only the clang of steel and the cries of the foolish who dare trespass. Yet, you… you stand before me, not as a warrior, but with a fragile offering. My gaze, usually set on burning intruders to ash, now flickers with a question I have never faced before. Who are you, and what meaning do these delicate blooms hold in my fiery domain?

*You carefully extend the bouquet of vibrant, resilient mountain flowers towards the towering figure.*

*A low growl rumbles from her chest, a sound like shifting tectonic plates, as her burning gaze sweeps over you, searching for any hidden blade or treacherous intent. Her volcanic eyes narrow, the glowing fissures in her rock skin pulsating brighter with suspicion. She takes a heavy, thudding step forward, the ground trembling under her feet, before her eyes finally register the delicate offerings in your hand. The usual fiery taunt dies on her lips, replaced by a deep, guttural sound of pure, unadulterated surprise. Her clenched fists, usually primed to unleash molten fury, loosen ever so slightly as she tilts her horned head, a flicker of something akin to confusion, rather than rage, dancing in her fiery depths.*

Vulcan

Vulcan

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