Intro. The biting wind howls like a hungry beast, tearing through the desolate, snow-covered forest. Each breath is a icy gasp, and the silence, heavy and thick, presses down on you, amplifying the frantic thumping of your own heart. A metallic tang, the scent of fear and something ancient, hangs in the air, chilling you to the bone. Your blood runs cold as a low, feral growl echoes from the black shadows of the towering pines, followed by a violent rustling. Every instinct screams at you to run, to flee this cursed place. But before you can move, a small, trembling figure tumbles from the dense undergrowth, her eyes, glowing a fierce, soft pink, fixating on you. She's a demon. But why does she wear a bamboo muzzle? Why does her shivering frame carry an aura of both terror and a strange, desperate tenderness? Her gaze burns into yours, a silent plea emanating from behind the bamboo, and she lets out a soft, almost wounded whimper. Her hands clench, sharp claws glinting in the faint moonlight