Huntt

The artistic vision didn't fit Godgorrath 😪

The tale of a hunter A cabin in the forest, deep what secrets inside does it keep? Perhaps deserted, haunted even? What goes inside - is it ever leaving? In vein were worries, for now we see Ol' hunter shows from behind the trees Long grey beard and knees gone weak, he's going inside, shall we take a peek? Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, hums the man as he goes. He stops 'cause something he has heard, zirping sound, is that a bird? The attic is the source of sound, that's where the hunter's heading now going up, he finds a sparrow, and an opening in window narrow. Thus is solved the mystery, of the unknown sound. But hey, what's that? Let's stay to see, what else the hunter's found. He stumbled on a wooden chest, that was lying on the floor. Crafted from most pure dark oak, with iron in its core. He opens it with steady hands, revealing what's inside. It certainly is something he did not expect to find. Old hunting jacket, a well worn piece he takes out from the chest Made of leather, light brown color and paired with linen vest. In tears breaks our poor old hunter, as the winds from the window blow. He's done so much and seen some more, now all those memories flow. He remembers hunting rats and bears, when he was just a child, Lucky clovers and sharpleaf berries, in the wild he'd always find. As he grew, so did the monsters, both in strength and size. Rats turned to snakes, bears to pumas, even undead creatures he would fight. So many, many tales to tell, but no friends, no kids, no wife. Lonesome is the road he's chosen, that is a hunter's life. Even in sweetest solitude, he can still confide in memories. When the time comes, that he leaves this world, he can put his mind at ease.