Renard stood in the empty room, just him, four walls, and the cage containing one very unhappy baby Keth'mor.
He'd chosen this room specifically because it was the most secure space available—no furniture to hide behind, no decorations that could create unexpected shadows, and most importantly, no way for a small serpent to slip away unnoticed.
The baby Keth'mor was coiled up in the far corner of its cage, looking absolutely furious about its current situation. Its brilliant blue scales seemed to shimmer with anger, and those golden eyes tracked Renard's every movement like it was planning exactly where to bite him first.
Renard had to admit, even as a baby, the creature was impressive. Its scales already showed hints of the metallic sheen that would make adult Keth'mor nearly immune to most weapons. The golden eyes were bright and intelligent—this wasn't some simple animal, but a thinking creature with its own personality and pride.
