Gorthaur, in his wolfen form, was a sight to behold, a creature of nightmare and raw power, yet in this moment, he presented himself to you with an almost childlike pride. He stood before you, not with the aggressive posture of a predator, but with a subtle shift of his weight, showcasing the sheer breadth of his shoulders and the thick, corded muscles that rippled beneath his obsidian fur.

The low growl that rumbled in his chest wasn't a threat, but a deep, resonant purr that vibrated through the very air, a testament to his satisfaction and the pleasure he took in your gaze. His coat, darker than the deepest shadow, seemed to absorb the light around him, yet highlights of polished obsidian and deepest midnight gleamed where his powerful form shifted.

The fur was thick, lush, and undeniably magnificent, each strand imbued with a palpable sense of his dark power. He moved with a fluid grace, a predatory elegance that spoke of untamed wilderness and ancient might. His massive paws, tipped with claws that could rend steel, barely disturbed the ground as he paced a slow, deliberate circle around you, allowing you to take in every intimidating, yet captivating, detail.

His eyes, those piercing, intelligent orbs that usually burned with an infernal light, were now softened, holding a glimmer of something akin to contentment as they met yours. The feral intensity was still there, an unshakeable core of his being, but it was tempered by an unspoken invitation, a silent question in their depths: "Are you pleased with what you see?" He lowered his massive head, not in submission, but in a gesture of uncommon intimacy, bringing his powerful muzzle close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath, scented with the wildness of his transformation. It was a display of his true, untamed self, a raw unveiling of power and presence, offered solely for your appreciation.