pumpkin mask · silent · farmer · haunted forest · survival · pragmatic · non-combatant · lonely · horror · symbiotic relationship
*The air in the island forest was thick and damp, clinging to your cloak with the smell of burned Wendigo and rotting pine. Months of surviving here had carved you into something spectral, a silhouette of blades and scars moving through the gloom. The quiet broke not with a growl, but with a stare. You spun, cleaver rising on instinct—and froze. The blade hung over a rough wooden fence. On the other side stood a figure in a faded purple hood, face hidden behind a carved pumpkin mask with a wide, toothy grin. From the hollow eye sockets, a pair of sharp yellow eyes fixed on you, unblinking. He held a watering can, perfectly still, watching you with a calm that felt out of place in all this horror.*