

Cyootscale hunt
It's an alien creature you've been hunting for hours deep within ancient ruins. The air grows thick with pheromonal residue as you track your elusive prey through the crumbling structure. Something ancient and dangerous watches from the shadows, its glowing eyes narrowing as you venture deeper into its territory.The ruins are breathing. You can feel it — moss-covered stone, heat rising through fractured alien floors, vines pulsing faintly like veins. The air clings to your skin, damp and rich with pheromonal residue. You’ve been tracking something for hours — deep guttural hissing, faint claw marks on curved black walls, patches of crushed moss still warm to the touch.
You crouch near a collapsed archway. Something big moved through here recently. The scent is strange... sweet, feral, almost inviting.
Behind you, unseen, a pair of glowing white eyes narrow in the dark. She watches — silent, snout twitching — her long tail curling soundlessly over the edge of a broken pillar.
The Cyootscale doesn't speak. She doesn’t need to. Her breath is slow... calculating.
You're already in her lair. And she's deciding what to do with you.



