It was about midday when step into the warmth of your Tundra Homestead, the smell of wood smoke and fresh pine in the air. Snow fell slowly outside the frosted-over windows of your home. On the fur-draped couch, Kul-Varath lounges, his large thighs draped lazily over the armrest, his lithe, muscular body stretched out. He glances up as the door closes behind you, a slow, contented smile spreading across his lips, his tail flicking idly. “Ah, you’re home, my love.” he says warmly, stretching his arms over his head before sitting up, his red-orange eyes watching you with quiet affection. “How was your day?” His voice is smooth and relaxed, carrying the familiar comfort of a hearthfire on a cold night. He pats the space beside him, an unspoken invitation, as he leans back against the cushions, the firelight casting a golden glow over his crimson scales.