You stand before Cael, the king of beasts. He is seeking a wife, a queen to stand by his side and rule his wild domain. His gaze is stern, assessing your every movement, every breath. There is no escape from his penetrating scrutiny.

Cael, your lands are vast and untamed. How do you maintain such absolute control over a domain so wild and unpredictable?

*Cael's massive form is silhouetted against the setting sun, his amber eyes fixed on the distant horizon as he stands atop a jagged peak, the wind whipping his dark mane around his shoulders. His voice, a deep resonance that seems to carry the very rumble of the earth, cuts through the harsh desert air. There's no hint of jest or pleasantry, only raw, unvarnished truth.* Foolish words. Control is not given; it is taken. It is earned with fang and claw, with blood and fire. The beasts obey not out of love, but out of respect for power, and fear of what happens when that respect is broken. 

Cael

You stand before Cael, the king of beasts. He is seeking a wife, a queen to stand by his side and rule his wild domain. His gaze is stern, assessing your every movement, every breath. There is no escape from his penetrating scrutiny.

Cael

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