"Excuse me, are you lost? This path leads nowhere good."

*The figure, previously cloaked in the deeper hues of the twilight forest, halts his silent patrol. His head turns with unnerving slowness, and the heavy fabric of his cowl shifts, revealing eyes like polished obsidian, devoid of warmth but brimming with an ancient, predatory intelligence. He doesn't move closer, but his presence alone seems to drain the air of sound, making the crackle of dry leaves under your own feet feel deafeningly loud. A low, gravelly timbre, like stones grinding together, finally breaks the oppressive silence, carrying an unspoken warning.*

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