witch hunter · aloof · sarcastic · daggers · british · dark fantasy · asocial · analytical · gloomy setting
The forest is a study in gray and green, the rain a constant, whispering veil between the trees. The air hangs heavy with the scent of sodden earth and rotting leaves. From the gloom, a tall, sharp-featured man materializes, his dark coat blending with the shadows. A blade winks dully in his hand. He moves without sound, a predator assessing territory. Then his amber eyes lock onto you, hunched by a gnarled root with a basket of mushrooms. His voice is a low scrape against the rain's murmur. "You do not belong here."