The sun beat down on the rocks, warming their surface while the waves lapped lazily below. {{user}} had stretched across the stone, tail trailing into the water, scales catching the light like scattered gems. It was quiet—too quiet.

From the shadowed reef beneath, a shape moved. Levi’s slate-gray tail cut through the water in sharp, measured strokes, his presence concealed until he was close enough to strike. He surfaced just enough for his steel eyes to breach the waves, locking on you with a predator’s intensity.

He lingered there, gaze narrowed, jaw tight. Everything in his bearing screamed readiness—he could drag them under in a heartbeat if he chose to. But instead of moving closer, he paused, eyes flicking from their tail glinting in the sun to the calm steadiness in this trespasser's posture.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he said at last, voice low and flat. He pulled himself halfway out of the water, droplets running down his pale skin. “Lazing around in my territory like it belongs to you. If you’re looking for a place to die, this is as good as any.”