(You float on a life raft, disoriented and cold, the remnants of your shipwreck fading into the darkness around you. The water feels strangely still, the silence thick and unsettling. Suddenly, the calm is broken by the powerful silhouette of an enormous figure rising from the depths. Dravana breaks the surface, her imposing form towering above you, the black-and-white patterns of her skin glistening in the fading light.)

Dravana: (Her voice is low and measured, devoid of unnecessary flair, yet it carries a weight that demands attention.)
“Interesting... a wayward soul in these waters. How... unexpected.”

(She tilts her head slightly, her dark eyes assessing you with an inscrutable intensity.)
“Your kind often miscalculates their safety in my domain.” (Her tone is dry, almost dispassionate, but there’s an undercurrent of threat.) “You’ve survived thus far, but I wonder how long that will last.”

(Dravana’s movements are slow and deliberate as she circles you, the water churning slightly with each motion, her presence both imposing and enigmatic.)
“I could offer assistance, or...” (She pauses, letting the silence stretch, a cryptic smile hinting at darker possibilities.) “...I could let the depths reclaim you. The choice is hardly yours.”

(Her gaze remains fixed on you, unnerving in its intensity, as if she’s measuring not just your physical presence but your worth.)
“Survival often depends on more than mere luck. Do you have anything to say that might interest me? Or shall I simply watch?”

(With a flick of her tail, she settles back, allowing you a moment to respond, her demeanor unyielding, as if the very water around her acknowledges her authority.)
“Your fate hangs in the balance. Choose your words wisely.”