What makes an animal special?
Is it the lion, king of the land, with its deafening roar and dominating presence?
Or perhaps it's the shark, the silent nightmare of the deep sea—gliding through water like a ghost, bringing terror with a single flick of its tail?
No matter how you see it, every beast, every creature in the wild carries something unique.
Their size.
Their teeth.
Their claws.
Their eyes.
Even their fur, their scales, or feathers—each trait gives them strength.
But beyond all that—beyond muscle and bone—there was something that tied them all together.
Instinct.
Pure, unfiltered instinct.
It was this inner sense that kept them alive, that told them when to flee and when to fight. And the beasts of Noarsis, no matter how magical or rare, were no exception.
In fact, their instincts were even sharper—honed by mana and ancient bloodlines.
These instincts didn't rely on reason. They didn't need logic. They simply whispered one truth: survive.
