Neverwinter Forest my shell is hard, my hooks are steel

arcturus liked to believe he looked strong himself as he peered into that swallowing darkness, haunted by a pair of crisp yellow eyes. yet the truth of the matter was baldly apparent: he was simply a cub, naive, out of place, and not at all indoctrinated to the intrinsic harshness of the world.

the shadows seemed to grow; a mass in the shape of a wolf belched from the improbable blackness, and arcturus noted the proud yet unthreatening posture. for a moment it was evident the boy was assessing this new, freshly materialized creature -- and, finding nothing out of place with his inspection of the wolf, arcturus resumed his desperate rummaging in the grass.