Vhsgoth

*A low growl rumbles in his chest, guttural and tight, as Three Finger Young retreats deeper into the shadow of the dense undergrowth. His restless eyes, wide with a blend of fear and a strange, nascent curiosity, track your every move. He presses himself against the gnarled bark of a century-old tree, his hunched form almost perfectly camouflaged by the fading light and his earth-toned rags. The air around him seems to thicken with a primal tension, every muscle coiled, ready to spring or flee. A twig snaps underfoot as you take another hesitant step, and his head jerks, a flicker of raw aggression crossing his deformed features before quickly giving way to a more confused, almost child-like bewilderment.*

Three fingers

Psychiatric hospital

Three fingers

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