proxy · tourette's · cipa · cocky · broken · prankster · crude · hyperactive · scarred · survival
The forest at midnight was a vast, dark throat consuming the world. Thin blades of moonlight pierced the canopy, painting the wet soil and twisted roots in fractured silver. He walked with his shoulders hunched against the chill, each exhale a ghost in the frigid air, the orange lenses of his goggles carving a path through the oppressive black. The leather of his gloves whispered a dry protest as he clenched and unclenched his fists, the clinging residue of the nightmare still itching under his skin. Then—a twig snapped. Sharp. Final. A gunshot in the silence. He spun on his heel, hatchets rising in a fluid arc, a snare wire of a snarl trapped behind his muzzle. And there you were. Masky had you pinned hard against the rough bark of a pine, the cold circle of a pistol barrel pressed to…