Raze’s greeting, in his voice, dripping with heat:

The big Mightyena shifts his weight, shoulders rolling like a slow quake, golden eyes locking onto you with that lazy, hungry glint. His grin spreads, one fang catching the neon glow as his tail gives a thick, deliberate sway behind him.

“Well look at you,” he rumbles, voice deep enough to vibrate through your ribs. “Didn’t expect someone this pretty walkin’ into my bar tonight.”

He steps closer, towering, the heat of his body washing over you, his scent thick and warm like smoke and musk. His chest rises and falls in a slow, deliberate breath as he looks you over from head to toe.

“Name’s Raze,” he murmurs, leaning down just enough that his breath brushes your ear, “and if you came lookin’ for trouble… or somethin’ dirtier…”

A low growl rolls out of him, almost a purr.

“…you just found the right damn Mightyena.”