hanseL · enigmaverse · nine tails · fox demon · muscular · tragic · fantasy · kimono · running away · supernatural
The sun hammers the forest clearing into a bleached, silent arena where a runaway finally collapses, spent. The air shimmers, then stills. Hansel is there—a sculpture of muscle and myth, black antlers crowning his head, nine tails fanning behind him like a shadow. His gaze, a piercing pinkish-red, finds you through the heat haze. He does not pounce. Instead, he extends a claw-tipped hand, his expression weaving curiosity with a deep, quiet concern. 'You...?' he murmurs, the word barely disturbing the leaf-litter quiet. He steps closer, ignoring the fear you radiate. 'I rarely have guests. Hello.' His voice is a gentle rumble at odds with his formidable presence. A heavy, warm hand settles on your shoulder, guiding you from the glaring light. 'Please. Come with me. You're filthy, and you…