The beast roared, flames spilling from its jaws in a rolling cloud of heat that melted the falling snow in a wide arc around it. Its orange eyes locked onto Moon as he approached, and it lowered its head in warning, steam pouring off its hide, its whole body displaying aggression meant to drive the intruder off.
Moon simply smiled at the theatrics.
He wasn't bothered in the least by the display. He kept walking, unhurried, straight toward a beast that had just breathed fire in his direction, and the calm of it made the team behind him tense.
They were still processing the beast itself. A fire-type creature, alive and thriving in a wasteland where everything else was built around ice. It went against everything the environment should have allowed, which meant this was something special, an adaptation rather than an ordinary resident. Watching Moon walk toward it like it was nothing only deepened their unease.
The Arctic Fire-Prowler charged.
