Alaric paced the confines of his study, the shadows of the evening creeping across the room like silent specters. The air was thick with anticipation as he considered the recent developments. Just then, Gilbert entered with a purposeful stride, a glimmer of urgency in his eyes.
"Master, we have caught one werewolf from the Hangrove family," Gilbert announced, his voice steady. "I would not say we caught him; he came to us himself."
Alaric raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "He came to us? Interesting. Bring him in."
Gilbert nodded and stepped back out of the room. Moments later, he returned, ushering in a tall, rugged figure with disheveled hair and wearied eyes. The werewolf's presence was commanding, his body language exuding a mix of defiance and caution.
"Alaric Kurogane," the werewolf spoke, his voice a low rumble, resonating with a deep, underlying anger. "I am known as Rowan, and I've come to speak."
