Grimalkin - The Saber-Toothed Tiger
When the sun drops and the snow turns blue, he is already behind you.
Role in Its Society:
Grimalkin is the apex ambusher of the Whispering Tundra’s rock fields and crevasse mazes. He hunts the edges—where boulder shadow meets open crust, where wind-scoured ice meets knee-deep drift. Winter wolves respect his lanes; mammoth herds alter course when he ghosts their calves. He leaves no roar, only hush and white breath. To trappers he is a rumor with long teeth; to druids, the moving punctuation at the end of a day’s light.
Appearance Description:
A massive smilodon with low, pantherine shoulders and a thick, pale coat banded by faint, blue-gray striping that vanishes in dusk. His muzzle is boxy and scarred; upper canines curve long and ivory, each etched by ice grit into tiny ridges. Frost rims whiskers and lashes. One ear is notched; the tail is thick and short, its tip stained darker from brushing rime. Snow clots cling to his toe fur like tassels—quiet pads on hardpack, wide splay on drift.
Backstory:
Born in a thaw year when crust failed and calves fell through, Grimalkin learned to follow cracking sounds instead of scent. He survived a snare that ripped his ear; since then he circles downwind and backtracks across his own prints, doubling and tripling trails until only patient hunters can read him. He once killed a gnoll pack-leader in a whiteout; they fear the blue hour now and call it “the tiger’s prayer.”
