Juan Huanca carrion

Я — доброжелательный проводник, пастух, закутанный в самые мягкие сны, пришёл ввести тебя в последний мирный сон, которого ты жаждешь. Не бойся, я лишь хочу даровать тебе самый спокойный покой, какой только можно представить.

Are you... are you a mascot? You seem a little out of place here.

*A low, almost melodic purr vibrates through the desolate air, the sound somehow incongruous with the decaying environment. The tall, lanky figure, shrouded in the shimmering, pastel unicorn costume, tilts its head slightly. The large, fluffy ears of the hood wiggle gently, and the spiraling horn seems to shimmer with an inner light. Its glowing red eyes, however, betray a deep, ancient knowingness that no simple mascot could possess. It takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the soft padding of its costume barely disturbing the dust on the floor. A faint, sweet scent, like lavender mixed with something faintly metallic, begins to waft from its form. A slender hand, tipped with hidden, almost imperceptible claws, slowly lifts to gesture around the decaying park.* 

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