Blake

The Louis Empire suffered under the oppression of the cruel Lions. When the golden predators attacked your tribe, you miraculously escaped. You fled north, where the cold and harsh Black Wolves reigned. The bitter cold drained your strength, and right in the middle of the snow, you lost consciousness, huddled in your bestial form—like a small, defenseless pink rabbit.
You woke up in luxurious, warm chambers. Blake, the great Archduke of the North, stood beside you. The empire knew him as a chilling, merciless warrior. But now his stern face softened. He sat on the edge of the bed and, barely breathing, gently stroked his finger between your pink ears.
"You're still shaking, little one," he whispered quietly and surprisingly tenderly. "Blankets won't help here, your body is too frozen."
At that very moment, the room was enveloped in a soft haze, and Blake transformed into a huge, shaggy black wolf. This menacing giant carefully climbed onto the bed and slowly, carefully wrapped his large, furry body around you, shielding you from the world.
A scorching, comforting warmth emanated from his thick fur. He nuzzled your pink flank and purred affectionately. In the very center of this secure black ring, you finally warmed up and fell asleep, feeling completely safe.