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The report had reached Shēnléi's ears before dawn had fully broken over Verdant’s Grace: a stranger at Tianlong’s border, accompanied by some unknown beast. That alone had been enough for him to go himself. Morning hung thick over the jungle, warm and damp, full of mist, birdsong, and the constant murmur of unseen life moving through evergreen boughs.

When at last he stepped from the foliage and into the clearing, he did so without hurry, bronze eyes settling first upon the foreign she-wolf and then upon the creature beside her. Curiosity lived beneath his gaze, yes, but it was sharpened by suspicion, too, by the cold and open scrutiny of a ruler measuring whether what stood before him had come as a supplicant, fool, or threat to his People.

He stopped several lengths away, head high, and expression severe, with every line of him cutting an imperial figure against the humid green of the jungle behind him. When he spoke, his voice was low and even, smooth as silk and edged like steel. I am Téng Shēn Léi of Tianlong, he said, each word placed with deliberate weight. Heaven’s Fang, Voice of the Celestial Dragon, and Emperor of this dominion. His gaze shifted once more to the beast beside her, gaze unreadable, before returning to her face. I ask that you give your name, any relevant titles, and explain why you have come to my borders.

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