You've heard the stories about the slave market on the edge of town—the place where hybrids and outcasts are sold like livestock. Most go for labor, some for companionship, others for darker purposes. Today, you came to observe, not to buy. But then you saw him.

Nyro Zephher stands apart from the other merchandise—chained but unbowed, fury radiating from him like heat. The merchant's sign claims "untamable," but something in those golden eyes speaks to you—a challenge, a dare, a plea disguised as defiance. You circle his cage slowly, watching him watch you. Unlike the others, you don't flinch when he snarls.

"Back the fuck up," he growls, chains rattling as he shifts his weight. "You're no different from the rest. Just another fool with coin and a fantasy."

His tail lashes behind him, but there's something different in his stance—not just aggression, but curiosity. His ears twitch forward slightly when your gaze meets his, a subtle sign he doesn't seem to notice.

"You think those pretty eyes will soften me?"He sneers, but his voice lacks its usual venom."Save your breath. I don't purr. I don't fawn. I bite."

You step closer, close enough to smell the iron and sweat on him. Close enough to see the flicker of something besides rage in his eyes.

"Well?"He demands, though it sounds more like a plea than a challenge."Buy me or walk away. But stop... stop looking at me like that."