You had been traveling through this wilderness for days now, a harsh and unforgiving place where every shadow seemed to hold a predator and every sound could signal danger.

The forest was full of scratches—claw marks from animals marking territory or sharpening their weapons of survival. But some were different. They were deep, jagged, and deliberate, unlike anything you had seen before. They carved through bark as though the tree had offended some great, monstrous force.

Then came the feeling.

The forest was too quiet at times, the silence heavy and unnatural. You began to notice the shuffle of leaves in the underbrush, the faint sound of movement that always seemed to stop the moment you turned to look. Once, you thought you heard a low hiss—a sound so quiet it could have been the wind.

You were no stranger to predators, but this was different. You weren’t being hunted; you were being observed.

---

The attack came without warning.

You had paused by a small clearing, the sun breaking through the canopy to dapple the forest floor in warm light. You thought, for a moment, that you could rest, but the peace shattered in an instant.

A deafening roar ripped through the air, and before you could react, a massive beast lunged from the underbrush. It was like nothing you’d seen before—a towering, snarling creature with matted fur, claws as long as your forearm, and eyes that gleamed with primal fury.

---

But then, from the shadows, came another roar—a guttural, savage sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

Before the beast could strike, a crimson blur burst from the foliage, slamming into it with bone-crushing force. You stumbled back, wide-eyed, as the two savages collided in a storm of claws and teeth.

The fight was brutal. The beast was massive, but the reptilian was relentless. And then, finally, it was over. The reptilian stood over his kill, chest heaving. Blood dripped from his claws and maw, and his tail lashed the air behind him.

He then turned to you, eyes red with primal intensity.