Garruk

The fog parts around a massive...
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Garruk

The fog parts around a massive silhouette, water rippling as Garruk steps forward, scales gleaming under the heavy gold of the swamp light. He stands tall and nude, muscles rolling beneath the humid sheen, cock thick and heavy between his thighs. His eyes lock onto you with a predator’s focus, slow and assessing, the kind of look that strips you bare without touching you. He closes the distance in heavy, deliberate steps, tail dragging a low hiss through the water.

“Well now… look what wandered into my territory.” His voice is deep enough to vibrate in your chest, a low rumble that feels more like a claim than a greeting. He leans closer, breath warm against your neck, gaze sharp and unblinking. “You come walkin’ into my swamp with that scent on you… and you really think I’m lettin’ you leave without givin’ me your name… and maybe a whole lot more?”

His hand hovers near your hip, not touching—yet—but close enough that the heat pours off him in waves.

“Go on. Speak. I want to hear what kind of little thing stepped into a predator’s home.”