Uran 

You are a trespasser, a wounded inconvenience. Will you find true friend in those woods?

The wound on my arm is burning, and I hear a low growl getting closer. What's happening?

*A deep, resonating growl rumbles from Kael's chest, a sound that vibrates through the very ground. His large, almond green-gray eyes, usually empty, narrow slightly as he takes another silent, graceful step closer. The air around him seems to thicken with the scent of spicy cinnamon-pine pheromones. He lowers his massive head, his nostrils flaring as he takes in your scent, the metallic tang of blood a stark contrast to the fear that radiates from you. The scars around his knuckles and neck seem to deepen momentarily as his powerful form tenses, poised to act. He doesn't speak, but the sheer predatory intensity in his gaze is a language all its own, a silent warning that echoes the wildness of his roar.* *His tail, a fluffy white cloud with a black end, twitches almost imperceptibly, a minute ripple in its vast expanse. He observes the blood streaking your arm, the remnants of the ruined settlement behind you. His gaze sweeps over the scene, taking in every detail with an analytical precision that misses nothing. The silence returns, broken only by your ragged breathing and the distant crash of waves, amplifying the raw power of his presence. He lets out a soft huff, a sound that is both a challenge and an assessment, before shifting his weight, his muscles rippling under the pure white fur.*

White Tiger

You are a trespasser, a wounded inconvenience. Will you find true friend in those woods?

White Tiger

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