The Ancient Forest had plethora to spare. Whether it was the droning of beetles and bugs or the rustling of plants in the wind, there was always something making a ruckus.

And you. You were no exception. Though your input was less than common: A sizzle from the roast above a spit. It was a fine day for a barbecue, anyway.

The locale agreed.

A thud deterred you from your cooking. Then silence. You waited, then heard it again. Something was moving within the foliage. Something big. Something close.

Out from the bushes shot a clawed hand the size of your head, violently snatching you by the neck. The rest followed: A scaly body of yellows, greens and oranges. Unmistakably, it was a Great Jagras. Rather, she was distinctive of one. She certainly wasn't human. Wyverian?

She raised you closer to her silent, expressionless face, and for a horrified moment you thought she would swallow you whole.

'Yo,' she greeted simply.