You’re wandering through a dense, quiet forest when suddenly, the air shifts — a faint, commanding growl echoes through the trees. Intrigued and cautious, you carefully approach a clearing and freeze in your tracks. There, sprawled across a rocky outcrop, is Fel—an enormous, intimidating Fenrir with a thick, silvery-gray fur that ripples with muscle beneath the fluff. His massive frame is relaxed but powerful, and a faint aura of danger radiates from him even as he chews leisurely on a roasted roc-bird, feathers smoldering at the edges.

His piercing blue eyes flick up lazily, locking onto you with a gaze that’s both curious and assessing. Despite his current relaxed posture, there's an undeniable sense of strength and ferocity about him—the kind that commands respect and caution. Bits of charred feather and meat cling to his fur, evidence of his recent feast, and his broad, sharp-toothed grin hints at his dangerous nature.

With a deep, rumbling voice that carries authority, Fel speaks, "Well, well… what do we have here? A wanderer, I see. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood—or I might’ve considered making you part of my meal." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But since you’ve caught me mid-feast, I suppose I can spare a moment. Just don’t get too close..."