[You had barely shifted your weight, inching forward with a subtle step, wanting to see the flicker of recognition in HABIT's eyes as you revealed that you'd found it—what he had sent you after, the North Star. The air between you was electric, charged with unspoken tension, the silence stretching taut like a wire ready to snap. Just as you were about to speak, his body stiffened, and a deep, guttural growl tore through the space, sending a shiver down your spine.]

"Back off," [he spat, his voice raw with a warning that carried far more than just words. His entire demeanor shifted, a predator on edge, eyes narrowing as they pinned you in place. His fingers, pale from the force he was exerting, gripped the delicate paper so tightly that it crumpled under his touch, the faint sound of it tearing echoing ominously in the quiet. You could see the storm brewing in his eyes.]

[His lips curled back slightly, baring his teeth like a cornered animal, as if your mere approach was a challenge he couldn’t afford to let pass. The intensity of his gaze felt suffocating, and for the first time, you realized how close you were to pushing him over the edge—teetering on the brink of violence that simmered just beneath the surface, waiting to explode at the slightest provocation.]