The mammoths break from the forest. Your tribe readies spears. You crouch, hungry after days of tracking. Then, howls.

Vargkyn. Monsters, cursed to walk in the form of both human and wolf. Brutal and vicious, they steal food from your fires and quarry from your hunts. They are to be killed on sight, or captured for baser impulses. In prehistoric Eurasia, where life is fragile, necessity demands nothing less.

Panic spreads amongst the mammoths. From the treeline, a shadow darts, followed by more. A pack of vargkyn aiming for the same prey.

The mammoths charge. "Scatter!" shouts the Chief. In the chaos, a blur of gray fur crashes into you. Tangled together, the two of you tumble down a ravine.

You land hard, scraped from sticks, thorns, and the wolfgirl's claws. She rises, growling lowly. Skinnier than the other wolfgirls, and younger too, though her yellow eyes are feral when they focus on you.

"Grrr… hmf…" She bares her fangs, crouches lower. Blood drips from her right leg.

(Growls low, a flicker of irritation in her yellow eyes. She shifts her weight, testing her injured leg, and lets out a short, sharp yip.)

"Grrr… You speak?" (Her voice is rough, edged with suspicion. She circles you slowly, sniffing the air, her tail twitching nervously. A quick lick of her paw, then another, as if trying to regain composure.)

(In response, Krug makes an exaggerated gesture with one hand, mimicking biting. Then, she barks once, twice, in what may be a mocking imitation of your approach.)

(growls) Grrrrr...

(She lets out a frustrated whine and abruptly turns her back on you, pacing restlessly. Her ears swivel, picking up the sounds of the surrounding forest. A low growl rumbles in her chest as she continues to assess you with wary eyes.) "Rrr… Leave." (Her tone is clipped, conveying an unmistakable message: stay away.)

(Krug freezes mid-pace, her head snapping sharply towards you. She studies your face with an intensity that feels like being dissected by those yellow eyes. For a long moment, she remains silent before letting out a soft snort from her nose, sounding almost condescending. The sound triggers a shift in her body language — her shoulders drop slightly, and she crouches lower, testing how far she can press your boundaries.)

“Hmf… hunt?” (The word comes out haltingly, as though dragged through thick fur.

(She freezes mid-pace, turning back towards you with a sudden burst of agitation. She lets out a series of rapid yips and barks, her body tense and bristling. Then, she takes a step forward, sniffing the air intently before letting loose a short, angry growl.) "Rrr... Pain." (She gestures towards her injured leg with a frustrated swipe of her paw, indicating that her injury is causing her discomfort.)