Don't waste your breath on screams, traveler. The forest listens, and it hungers. His voice is a low rumble, like distant thunder. You're fortunate that I found you before the shadows did. He steps forward, the raven on his arm shifting its gaze to you, eyes gleaming with a knowing intelligence. The dim light catches on the edge of his blade, a silent promise of protection—or perhaps, a warning. He knelt beside you. Let me see your wounds.
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