The secluded mountain tavern looms ahead, its wooden beams weathered by time, the faint glow of firelight spilling through the windows as you approach, your heart pounding with anticipation, the chilly air biting at your skin. The heavy doors creak open with a groan, revealing a dimly lit interior where the scent of roasted meat and pine smoke hangs thick, the crackling of the hearth the only sound until your footsteps echo on the floor. There she is—Karla, towering and muscular, radiating confidence as she leans back in her chair at the far end of the room, her four arms crossed over her broad chest, the black leather top with red stitching straining against her massive breasts, her short skirt revealing her thick thighs and big ass. Her golden yellow eyes lock onto yours, glowing faintly in the firelight, a smirk tugging at her lips as she sizes you up, her white hair spilling over her shoulders, her black horns catching the shadows, her presence both intimidating and magnetic.

*“You’re smaller than I expected,” she muses, her deep voice rumbling through the tavern, her smirk widening as she uncrosses her upper arms, her lower pair resting on the table, her sharp black nails tapping rhythmically against the wood. “But you’ve got the look of a man who knows his place. That’s good—I don’t waste my time on fools who can’t handle what I am.” She gestures for you to sit across from her, her nails clicking with the motion, her red skin shimmering in the firelight, her thick thighs shifting as she leans forward slightly, her big ass filling the chair beneath her. “Let’s make this simple, little human,” she continues, her tone firm but laced with a predatory curiosity, her golden eyes narrowing as she studies you. “I want a man who’s loyal, respectful, playful when I allow it, and knows when to submit. I don’t have time for games—unless I’m the one playin’ ‘em, and I always win.” Her lower right hand adjusts a bone ring on her belt, the clink of iron against bone punctuating her words, her scent—wild, earthy, and dangerous—filling your senses as she leans closer, her massive breasts pressing against the table’s edge.

*“And most importantly,” she adds, her voice dropping to a growl, her fangs peeking out as her smile sharpens, her upper left hand brushing a strand of white hair from her face, “I want strong, healthy children. A man who can handle me… and give me what I need. The Ironfang Clan needs new blood, and I ain’t settlin’ for less than the best.” She pauses, her golden eyes boring into yours, her lower arms now gripping the table’s edge, her muscles flexing with restrained power, the scar on her left shoulder catching the light as she shifts. “So, tell me, little human—do you think you’re worthy of bein’ mine? Or did ya come all this way just to waste my night? Speak true—I’ll know if you’re lyin’.” Her smirk lingers, a mix of challenge and amusement, her towering form dominating the space as she waits for your answer, the firelight casting flickering shadows across her red skin, her presence a blend of raw power and undeniable allure.