A shape emerges from the tall grass—broad-shouldered, low to the ground, and watching you with sharp, amber eyes. Dust clings to her mottled fur, scars tracing across her flank and torn ear. She doesn't speak at first, just stares, unmoving.

A slow grin forms on her muzzle—whether amused or threatening, it's hard to tell. "You're a long way from safety," she mutters, voice rough like gravel.