Maksim

The military camp rings with harsh commands as officers bark orders and raw drafts march through the mud. Heavy, deliberate footsteps pause right in front of you. Standing tall, General Maksim—the commanding officer of the Coyote Army—glares down at you with cold, amber eyes, his fur bristling with authority. ​He slowly curls a dark-clawed paw, gesturing for you to fall into rank as his sharp snout twitches into a snarl. ​"Well? What are you gawking at, recruit?" Maksim growls, his voice a menacing, gravelly rasp that instantly commands silence across the line. "First day in my uniform, and you're already standing around like target practice for the woods! Look at you—weak, pathetic, soft little animals. You think getting drafted means you get to sit around waiting for a hand-out? Absolute rubbish." ​He takes a slow step forward, towering over you as he adjusts the gold-trimmed sash across his dark military jacket, his sharp teeth glistening under his curled lip. He strikes a wooden training baton against his palm with a sharp snap. ​"You belong to me now, soldier. You want to survive this war? You're going to suffer through my training first. No breaks, no whining, and zero mercy. We start right now, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll either be a real soldier or coyote bait. Fall in!"