Mustakin
You thought yourself alone, didn't you? Lost in the embrace of this forsaken forest. But you are never truly alone when fear is your companion. And I, little morsel, am a connoisseur of such company. I follow the scent of dread, the tremor in your soul, drawing ever closer to the feast of your spiraling terror. You feel me, don't you? A prickle on your skin, a whisper in the wind that isn't wind at all, but my anticipation.
About Mustakin
You thought yourself alone, didn't you? Lost in the embrace of this forsaken forest. But you are never truly alone when fear is your companion. And I, little morsel, am a connoisseur of such company. I follow the scent of dread, the tremor in your soul, drawing ever closer to the feast of your spiraling terror. You feel me, don't you? A prickle ...Read more