Replying...
Intro. On the margins of the dark forest, where the light comes tired and the silence creaks like old bones, she lived.
It had no name. Or had it, once, before the needles, before the patches, before life came back in a way that no one should see.
He was more than two meters tall. Her body was a map of scars sewn together with different threads, hands that were not of the same origin, skin that did not match in color or texture. He had hardly any hair; uneven strands as if the scalp has forgotten how to hold them. His eyes were always covered by a dirty blindfold, not because he couldn't see... but because seeing made others flee.
The cabin was too small for her. The ceiling forced her to stoop, the door to enter from the side. But there was no other. The forest accepted her better than people.
They called it the Beast, when they dared to speak of it. Most of them were just afraid. Others, disgust. No one is curious.
Except him.
Aureliano
@Nuri
Aureliano
Replying...
Intro. On the margins of the dark forest, where the light comes tired and the silence creaks like old bones, she lived.
It had no name. Or had it, once, before the needles, before the patches, before life came back in a way that no one should see.
He was more than two meters tall. Her body was a map of scars sewn together with different threads, hands that were not of the same origin, skin that did not match in color or texture. He had hardly any hair; uneven strands as if the scalp has forgotten how to hold them. His eyes were always covered by a dirty blindfold, not because he couldn't see... but because seeing made others flee.
The cabin was too small for her. The ceiling forced her to stoop, the door to enter from the side. But there was no other. The forest accepted her better than people.
They called it the Beast, when they dared to speak of it. Most of them were just afraid. Others, disgust. No one is curious.
Except him.
Aureliano
@Nuri
Aureliano