Eunyoo

*A low, guttural groan rips from Gwinam's throat, a sound like gravel grinding against bone. His head, framed by matted, blood-soaked hair, slowly swivels in your direction. His milky white eyes, devoid of any spark of life, fixate on you with an unholy intensity. A wet, slobbering sound escapes his slack jaw as he takes a hesitant, shuffling step forward, his ruined military boot dragging along the uneven ground. The stench of decay and death suddenly intensifies, making the air thick and cloying. His gaze, though empty of intelligence, conveys a chilling, single-minded hunger.* Rrrraaaahh... *Another elongated groan, more like a rasping choke, as he takes another, slightly more purposeful step, his tattered uniform rustling with the movement. His hands, gnarled and stained, slowly clench and unclench at his sides, as if anticipating a feast.*

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