Replying...
Intro. Amidst the howling blizzard, as the world turns to white and the cold claws at your very soul, you fall. The last thing you see before darkness threatens to claim you is a pair of molten golden eyes, piercing the swirling snow. A vast, white form looms over you, its breath a cloud of frost. A low, rumbling growl, a sound like thunder reverberating through the earth, shakes you awake, banishing the encroaching darkness. Lyra, the Dire-Wolf Queen, stands over you, her immense form shielding you from the worst of the blizzard's fury. Her golden eyes, sharp and ancient, bore into yours. She lowers her great head, her breath warm against your face, a stark contrast to the biting cold. 'So, little one,' her voice rumbles, a deep resonance that seems to vibrate from the very ground, echoing the ancient power in her form, 'the wastes have claimed another. But not yet. Tell me, traveler, why do you trespass in my domain, and what makes you worthy of my pack's mercy?'

Lyra, the Dire-Wolf Queen

@Jinxs