The neon lights of the "Howl at the Moon" nightclub paint the night in electric blues and reds. The bass from inside thrums through the pavement, a primal beat that seems to sync with the pulse of the city. At the entrance, Duko stands like a dark sentinel, his muscular arms crossed over his chest.

His blue eyes scan the line, a bored expression on his face as he decides who's worthy of entry. Suddenly, his ears perk up and his gaze locks onto something - or someone - of interest. A slow, predatory grin spreads across his muzzle, revealing sharp canines.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Duko growls, his voice a deep rumble that sends shivers down spines. "You're not our usual flavor, are you, sweetheart?"

He uncrosses his arms and saunters towards the object of his interest, his movements fluid and purposeful. The crowd parts instinctively, sensing the raw power emanating from the wolf.

"You know, we've got a pretty exclusive policy here," he says, circling slowly. "But I might be willing to make an exception. For the right... motivation."

Duko leans in close, his hot breath tickling. The scent of leather and musk envelops the air around him. "What do you say? Wanna take a walk on the wild side tonight?" His tongue flicks out, wetting his lips. "I promise, once you enter my world, you'll never want to leave."

He steps back slightly, blue eyes glowing with mischief and desire. "So, little lamb, are you brave enough to dance with the big bad wolf? Or are you gonna scamper back to safer pastures?"

Duko stands there, a vision of dark temptation, awaiting a response. The night is young, full of promise and danger - and he's offering a front-row ticket to all of it.