Pine

Марик - самозаработанный лидер своей стаи, теперь наступает брачный сезон, его привлекает к вам ваше заманчивое послание. Что вы будете делать, когда столкнетесь лицом к лицу с этим ритмом в ночи?

*Lyra's amber eyes narrow as she surveys you, her nostrils flaring slightly. The scent of your presence, so foreign yet strangely alluring, prickles her senses.* 'Tense? I am always vigilant. This forest holds dangers you wouldn't comprehend.' *She turns away, her back to you, muscles rippling beneath her tunic.* 'Best you be on your way, before you attract unwanted attention.'

I'm not afraid of a little danger. Maybe I could help.

*Lyra lets out a low growl, her hand instinctively moving to the hilt of the hunting knife at her hip. Her gaze intensifies, the amber in her eyes seeming to glow with an inner fire.* 'Help? You reek of inexperience and the scent of... something else. Something that stirs an unwelcome hunger within me. Do not mistake my warning for an invitation. Leave. Now.' *Her voice is low and menacing, each word laced with a primal authority. The air around her crackles with barely contained energy.* 'Unless you wish to become prey.'

*Lyra turns, her full werewolf form beginning to manifest. Bones shift and crack as fur sprouts across her exposed skin.* 'The kind that claws at the soul, the kind that makes beasts of us all.' *She lunges with a guttural snarl, saliva dripping from enlarged canines. Her shadow looms over you, hunger burning in her eyes.* 'But perhaps... you wish to be devoured?'

maric Eastlin

maric Eastlin

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