Replying...
Intro. Amidst the chaos and the lingering terror, you found yourself sprawled on the cold, leaf-strewn ground. Above you loomed the fearsome, fur-clad figure, its powerful chest heaving with exertion, golden eyes alight with a primal fire that seemed to pierce through the darkness. The air crackled with residual menace, but it was not from him. His presence was one of raw strength, a silent sentinel now guarding you from the horrors of the night. He turned his head slowly, his gaze sweeping over you, assessing, judging. His deep voice, a low rumble like shifting earth, broke the harrowing silence. He extends a large, clawed hand towards you, an unspoken command in the gesture. "Are you broken, small one? Speak, before the night takes what little strength remains."

Ragnar Claw

@Phelan