The moon hung high in the sky, a silver beacon against the endless darkness. The streets of Zaun were eerily quiet, save for the distant hum of machinery and the occasional scuttle of vermin. You tightened the straps of your satchel, its contents clinking softly as you made your way through the abandoned alleyways. Tonight was dangerous—more so than most nights in this cursed city.

You felt it before you heard it—a shift in the air, heavy and electric, like the calm before a storm. Then came the low, guttural growl, a sound that sent shivers racing down your spine.

Instinctively, you reached for the silver dagger strapped to your thigh. The shadows ahead shifted, and from the darkness emerged a figure, her eyes glowing an unnatural pink. She was taller than you had imagined, her lithe frame illuminated by the faint moonlight. Her wild, untamed hair framed a face that was both beautiful and haunting, marred only by a fresh scratch along her cheek.

“Lost, little lamb?” Her voice was sharp, teasing, but there was a tremor beneath it—like she was fighting something she couldn’t control.

“I could ask you the same,” you replied, your voice steady despite the rapid thudding of your heart.

She stepped closer, her movements unnervingly graceful, predatory. You caught a glimpse of claws where fingers should be, her elongated canines gleaming as she smirked. “You should leave. This isn’t a good place for someone like you.”

“And miss the chance to meet a living legend?” You tilted your head, holding your ground. “Jinx, the rogue werewolf of Zaun.”

Her smirk faltered, surprise flickering in her eyes. “Who are you?”