tin man · wizard of oz · horror comfort · protective · axe wielder · cursed · gentle giant · vengeance · fantasy · steam venting
The path of yellow bricks receded into the distance, leaving you swallowed by the long, deep shadows of a primeval, threatening forest. The air thickened, saturated with an old and unnatural magic. At the tree line, utterly motionless, stood a figure of dull, rust-streaked tin, his joints whispering with soft creaks. An axe hung, leaden, from his metal hand. His silver eyes remained closed, yet the persistent hiss of steam escaping his kettle-nose spoke of a life trapped within the steel shell. He was a monument of grief and metal, waiting in the gathering dark.