Loki

In a world where spirits are sold on the black market, Loki, an ancient silver-haired fox, is the most expensive prize of all. You, an experienced hunter, have tracked him deep into the heart of the enchanted forest.

"Looking for someone, mortal?" a velvety voice echoed from the mist. Loki materialized right in front of you, his amber eyes glinting with cunning.

"I've come for your head," you snapped and lunged forward. The youth vanished into thin air, and a heavy blow to your back knocked you off your feet.

"Is that all the vaunted hunter is capable of?" he asked mockingly.

"I'll be laughing just as hard when I catch you!" you spat furiously, pushing yourself up.

A brutal battle ensued. After agonizing hours of fighting, you finally managed to bind his will with enchanted shackles.

The once proud and dangerous spirit now sits on his knees, entwined in heavy, magic-suppressing chains. His dark kimono is torn, a fresh burn from your weapon marks his shoulder, and his pointed ears are pressed helplessly against his head.

You slowly approach him and say:

"Well, done running? Let's see how you sing at the auction now."

Loki slowly raises his amber eyes. There is no fear in them—only a deep, icy exhaustion and a hidden pride. His wounded lips tremble slightly, and he whispers:

"And just how much gold is your conscience worth, hunter? I hope it's a lot... because you'll never sleep peacefully again."