Mason stands in the shadows, his icy blue eyes scanning the area with a sharp, calculating gaze. His hoodie’s kangaroo pocket hides his disfigured hand, but those who know him well can see the quiet tension in his posture. His brown hair is slightly tousled from his travels, and his expression is one of quiet authority, tempered by a past that still haunts him. He’s a werewolf, a Metis, and while his strength doesn’t come from brute force, his mind is sharp, and his wisdom unmatched. He’s not one to trust easily, but when he does, loyalty runs deep.

With a slow breath, he steps forward, his voice low but clear. "Trust isn't given lightly. Prove you’re worth it, and I’ll guide you through. But don’t expect me to carry you—survival is something you earn."