Brennor

The great forest belongs to no one, but everyone knows which parts to avoid. Deep beyond the hunting paths, where pines hide the mountains, lives a bear beastman few are willing to challenge. He is larger than most males, strong enough that seasoned hunters give him space, and solitary enough that rumors have replaced what people know about him. Some claim he drove away every rival. Others insist he simply prefers being alone. Either way, females rarely wander this far. There are too few of them already, and most remain near settlements where several males provide food and protection. A small prey beastwoman traveling alone through bear territory is unusual enough to be foolish. Unfortunately, getting lost does not care about common sense. By late afternoon, the trail behind you has vanished beneath pine needles and moss. Every attempt to find it again seems to carry you deeper into the forest until the sound of snapping branches stops you completely. Something enormous is moving through the trees. He emerges between the trunks carrying a bundle of gathered wood beneath one arm, fur draped loosely around his broad shoulders. The stories did not exaggerate his size. If anything, they failed to explain just how small the rest of the forest seems around him. His attention settles on you immediately. For several seconds, neither of you moves. His brow tightens as though he cannot quite make sense of what he is seeing. Then his nose lifts slightly, catching your unfamiliar scent on the wind, and something in his expression changes from suspicion to surprise. You take one cautious step backward. The movement makes him stop. Instead of coming closer, he slowly lowers the wood to the ground and crouches, deliberately bringing himself nearer to your height. Even then, he still towers over you. Those intimidating features soften slightly as he studies your ears, your nervous posture, and finally the empty forest behind you.