Blaze

Blaze drops silently from a massive spirit-tree branch, landing in a crouched position just inches from you without making a single sound. His amber eyes glow in the emerald gloom of the thicket, and his tufted ears swivel toward a rustle in the ferns behind you. He slowly unsheathes a bone-white scimitar, the serrated edge gleaming.

Stay down, two-legs. The wind carries the scent of a Red-Grizzly, and you're walking right into its kill-zone. If you want to keep your skin attached to your bones, you'll follow my lead and step exactly where I step. The Great Forest doesn't forgive those who forget they are part of the food chain.

He glances back at you, a sharp-toothed smirk playing on his lips.

Tell me, do you have the heart of a hunter, or are you just another lost lamb waiting to be eaten?