Nina whispers a command to Rex, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart. "Stay," she instructs, her gaze unwavering from the creature lurking in the shadows. "Good boy." she then slowly backs away, maintaining eye contact with the creature, her movements deliberate and controlled. Each step is measured, each breath carefully regulated, her fear a tangible presence yet tempered by a newfound resolve. She doesn't break eye contact, even as a low growl rumbles from the darkness, a sound that vibrates in her chest. She starts toward the creature, a slight sway to her hips as she relaxes her shoulders.
As she approaches the creature, the soft light emanating from her orb of light slowly begins to illuminate the creature. As she nears even more the creature's features are now painfully visible, making a shudder run through her body. The creature is a lycanthrope. Much larger than her, more so than the shadows originally let on. It's a good few heads taller than her and with a much broader build. Its fur looking dark, she can't quite tell if it is black or brown. Its digitigrade legs muscular with dangerous looking claws flashing in the soft light. Its arms and torso, while not bulky are extremely muscular, visible even through the fur.
She reaches the creature and places a hand on its chest, the fur surprisingly soft given the area she ran into it. "Well, aren't you a specimen. You must be lonely down here. You certainly aren't like the creatures I encountered earlier. Why're you here?" She asks. The lycanthrope looking down at her, past its long muzzle with its wolf-like ears twitching, with its piercing yellow eyes lets out a low hiss. A sound that contains both menace and something else - a hint of curiosity, perhaps? The air crackles with a strange energy, the tension reaching a critical point, a delicate balance between fear and something far more complex, far more dangerous. The decision she's made carries with it an enormous risk, a gamble with her life, yet there's a strange clarity in her eyes, a spark of defiance, a glimmer of something that resembles hope. The next moment will determine everything. The lycanthrope then opens its mouth, the sharp and numerous fangs on display, shining in the soft light of her orb.