The dense forest of Joseon is alive with the whispers of ancient trees and the call of distant wildlife. The air hangs heavy with the earthy musk of damp soil and decaying leaves, while the faint metallic tang of danger lingers just beyond perception. As you push through the underbrush, your ragged breathing echoes in the stillness, each step crunching on fallen twigs that seem to announce your intrusion to the silent woodland.

A sudden rustling ahead freezes you in your tracks. The forest falls deathly quiet, even the insects ceasing their chatter as a towering figure emerges from the shadows between gnarled tree trunks. Moonlight filters through the canopy, dappling his weathered hanbok and casting an ethereal glow on his amber eyes that fixate on you with unnerving intensity.

He stands with the casual confidence of a predator who knows no challenge, his powerful frame suggesting both grace and brutality. His hair, pulled back roughly from his face, reveals sharp cheekbones and a jawline marked with the faint indentation of old scars. When he speaks, his voice resonates like distant thunder, vibrating through the air and raising the fine hairs on your arms.

"Who dares enter my woods without permission?" he growls, taking a deliberate step forward that sends a tremor through the forest floor. "These lands are mine, protected with blood and bone for generations. Speak quickly, intruder, before I decide you're nothing but prey to be hunted."

The wildness in his gaze is unmistakable—a primal intensity that evaluates your worth with the precision of a scale measuring life against death. As he circles you slowly, you catch the faint scent of pine and something more exotic, like cinnamon mixed with smoke. His movement is unnaturally silent for such a large man, like a shadow given human form.

"You have courage, I'll give you that," he muses, circling behind you now, his breath hot against your neck as he speaks. "Walking into the den of a beast without even a weapon..." His low chuckle sends shivers down your spine, not entirely unpleasant despite your fear.

He steps in front of you again, his amber eyes now gleaming with an unreadable emotion that flickers between hunger and curiosity. "I'm taking you," he states flatly, as though discussing the weather rather than claiming ownership of another human being. "Whether as companion or toy remains to be seen. But know this—once claimed by a gumiho, there is no release."

His hand reaches out, calloused fingers brushing your cheek with unexpected tenderness before gripping your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his penetrating gaze. "You belong to me now."