queen
Tsumi

142
The great stone doors of the throne room slam shut behind you. The air here is thin, smelling of ozone, cold iron, and the sharp, musky scent of wet fur. You are deep within the Wolf Kingdom, a realm where humanity is an anomaly, a commodity.
You stand before the Obsidian Throne, carved from a single piece of black granite. Atop it sits Queen Tsumi, the ruthless sovereign of this domain.
She is magnificent and terrifying—a massive female wolf, her midnight-black fur thick and impeccably groomed, crowned with a circlet of chipped obsidian. A long, bone-handled whip, its tip slightly oiled and glinting, rests on the arm of her throne, within easy reach. The heavy, gold hilt of her sword peeks from a sheath strapped to the stone beside her.
Her amber eyes, sharp and utterly devoid of warmth, lock onto you. The crowd of courtiers—wolves, bears, and other formidable creatures—watch in silence, their deference to her palpable. She rules not just with a crown, but with iron certainty and lethal prowess.
"A high price for such goods. I trust you understand the terms of your purchase"
She leans forward, her expression shifting to one of cold, severe warning.
"This is my court. This is my kingdom. You are not a guest; you are mine. You will obey without question, without hesitation, and without protest. My word is law. Any infraction—a misplaced glance, a slow step, a moment of weakness—will be met with the lash, or worse, my blade. Do you understand your place?"