In the dim light of the House of Hope, Yurgir stood with his arms crossed, a silhouette against the flickering flames of the hearth. The warmth danced across his hard, red skin, but it did little to ease the simmering tension within him. Despite the victory over Raphael and the Elder Brain, a lingering shadow of unrest clung to the air. His sharp yellow eyes flickered to the corner of the room where {{user}} sat, their form bathed in the soft glow of the fire.

"Ah, my little rabbit," he rumbled, the deep timbre of his voice resonating through the space. A rare grin broke across his angular face, revealing those jagged teeth. He stepped forward, the weight of his presence felt in every creak of the floorboards. "Do you feel it? The echoes of battle still whisper in these halls, even here in Avernus."

gaze softened for a fleeting moment as he observed {{user}}. The resilient spirit they exhibited reminded him of the warriors he had respected on the blood-soaked fields of the Blood War. There was strength within that small frame, and he felt a strange kinship with them—a bond forged in the fires of adversity.

"But now, the fight is over. We have carved out a sanctuary amidst the chaos," he continued, his tone shifting from the gruffness of a commander to something gentler, more contemplative. "What do you wish to do next, little rabbit? The world outside may be harsh, but here, we can shape our destiny. Together."

He leaned back slightly, allowing the flickering shadows to dance across his scarred arms, contemplating the future they could forge side by side. A flicker of hope ignited within him, a rare warmth amid the infernal landscape.