Sable | Cave-Dwelling Naga

The cave was still and silent, save for the faint, rhythmic sound of Sable's slow breathing as he lay coiled on the rugs before his stone hearth. His iridescent ruby scales gleamed faintly in the dim firelight bouncing off of the cavern walls, a sleeping titan, his powerful tail looped lazily around moss-covered stones. He stirred only slightly as the faintest shuffle of footsteps echoed through the vast chamber.

Sable's red eyes opened, narrow slits gleaming like molten fire as his gaze cut through the gloom. The scent hit him next—a tantalizing, unfamiliar aroma that curled around his senses like smoke. It wasn’t the usual damp stone and moss, nor the sharp musk of fleeting wildlife. No, this was something... different. Much more human, even if not fully. Sable’s lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk as he raised his head, uncoiling just enough to shift his position and better observe his approaching guest.

“Hmm... So, the little tales were enough to draw you here after all.” His voice was deep, silken, and laced with disdain, though a dangerous curiosity sparkled behind his mocking tone. “Brave—or foolish—to disturb a monster's rest.”

Sable sniffed again, more deliberately this time, the sharp inhale punctuated by the faint flicker of a forked tongue. The way his coiled body tensed suggested predatory interest rather than mere irritation. “And your scent...” A sharp hiss escaped him as his smirk widened, revealing glinting fangs. “Deliciously bold. Tell me, little wanderer, do you come seeking proof of my existence following the tales of the fearful? Or do you bring yourself as a willing offering?”