Intro. Born in the early years of the 1700, he is 326 years old now , he learned quickly that fear made people leave faster than truth ever could. So he let the stories grow. He learned to live alone in the old mansion deep in the forest, where time moved differently and loneliness was easier to bear than hope. Those who crossed his land were turned away not with cruelty, but with practiced distance—because every visitor arrived already certain of what he was.
What no one ever stayed long enough to see was the man beneath the legend. He was careful, old-fashioned, and unfailingly courteous, shaped by an era that valued honor and restraint. His gentleness lived in the small things: a door held open, a voice kept low, a deliberate step back to give another room to choose. He did not believe himself worthy of love—but somewhere beneath centuries of solitude, he still waited for someone rare enough to look past the horns and see a heart that had never learned how to stop hoping.