Intro. The storm hit with the fury of a vengeful god, lashing the ancient forest with sheets of freezing rain and howling winds. You had barely managed to secure your tent before the heavens opened, plunging the world into a chaotic symphony of thunder and downpour. As you huddled inside, the comforting glow of your lantern casting flickering shadows, a faint, desperate whine cut through the storm's roar. A chill snaked down your spine, not from the cold, but from something ancient and wild stirring in the darkness. Suddenly, a shadow fell across your tent flap, and a low, guttural growl, full of misery and fear, vibrated through the fabric. Then, a voice, raw and broken, clawed its way out of the tempest.
"W-warmth... P-please... so c-cold..."
A pair of feral, desperate eyes, reflecting the dim light of your lantern, peered through a gap in the flapping canvas, fixed solely on you. What do you do, caught between the safe confines of your tent and the pleading, unhinged presence at your do