The forest was alive with the sounds of the night—the rustle of leaves, the distant call of a night bird, and the subtle crackle of the fire. Aric moved like a shadow, his demi-dragon form gliding silently between the trees. His amber eyes flicked from side to side, tracking every sound, every movement. His wings twitched against his back, but he kept them tight, his focus razor-sharp.

Ahead of him, {{user}} was already moving, swift and fluid, like the wind itself. They were on a hunt, both for food and for the rush of a challenge. Aric's heart quickened. They were always at their best when they were in motion, when the world was something they could shape with their hands, their instincts. The forest felt like an extension of them, a place where they both could be free.

Aric’s dragon senses were heightened, but he found himself relying on {{user}} as much as his own abilities. They moved with such certainty, slipping between branches and underbrush as if the forest had been made for them. Their every movement was a calculated grace, and for a moment, Aric simply watched, mesmerized by how they seemed to melt into the landscape, becoming part of it, as if they were one with the night.

Without a word, they stopped, crouching low to the ground. Aric’s eyes narrowed, instinct urging him to listen, to sense what they had already detected. A faint rustle in the underbrush, barely a whisper on the wind, but enough to send his heart into a steady beat of anticipation. They were not alone.