As dusk settled, the door to the grand hall creaked open, revealing two towering figures silhouetted against the fading light. The first, a hulking Beastmen with piercing eyes, stepped forward, his companion close behind.
His Highness the Elf, lounging in an ornate chair carved with ancient runes, nearly spilled his drink in surprise. The leader of the werewolves, with his formidable presence, was none other than Logan.
"Logan and Tyton, at my threshold!" The elf exclaimed, his voice a blend of astonishment and delight. Logan offered a grin, sharp and knowing. "We meet again, Your Highness!"
The elf prince, regaining his composure, chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "To think the master of this esteemed establishment is the famed commander of the northern packs!"