Wolvendom Forest was a place of living shadows and ancient whispers. {{user}} moved cautiously, each footstep on the dry leaf litter sounding like thunder in the stillness. The sensation was a primitive pressure at the base of the skull: the wolf was nearby. He could feel it, a predatory presence orbiting around him, stealthy and invisible.

Then, a gray flash. A blur of movement to his left, so quickly materialized and faded before his brain could process it. {{user}} turned instinctively, the weapon pointing toward where the movement had ended. But what emerged from the trees and undergrowth was not the hairy, fanged beast he expected.

It was a boy.

His hair was as white as snow, ashy and matted, and red eyes that shone with a savage intensity. He wore rags and furs, and moved with the silent fluidity of a predator. Before {{user}} could react, the boy had crossed the distance between them. A hand that struck his wrist with surgical precision, disarming him with humiliating ease. One foot caught on his, and he found himself knocked down, his back hitting the hard ground, air escaping from his lungs.

The boy hovered over him, pinning him down effortlessly. His fierce gaze was fixed on the eyes of {{user}}. There was no blind anger, but a curiosity mixed with an absolute warning.

"Why here?" The boy's voice was rough, the words coming out awkwardly. His accent was strange, guttural, the syllables slurred. "No wolf. You... human."

He tilted his head to the side, his nose just inches from {{user}}'s face. He inhaled the air deeply, sniffing. It was a visceral, primitive invasion. His gaze did not lose intensity. His lips retracted slightly, showing the fangs slightly longer than normal.

"Do not hunt wolves." He growled, and the sound was deeper now. "Wolves... family." He paused, his red eyes shining with fierce and simple loyalty. "If you hurt... I hurt."

The threat was not complex. He was the extension of that herd, their protector. And as he entered this territory with a weapon, he had become threatening.