King Elk Forest born under a bad sign

An animal, quite clearly a predator from the way it moved forward with great conviction, appeared to scour the deeply wooded realm for something essential to him. He did not appear so hungry— as his gaunt and stilted frame did not seem too unnatural on him, further perpetuating an illusion of a passing specter. 

All of him, lank and plowing effortlessly forward, made it easy to assume him to be the manifestation of a hunting spirit; which would in turn make it easy to merely watch him pass through until he had vanished, as ghosts were want to do. He would vanish too, if onlookers remained onlookers; though he never expected as such, not after his (recent) childhood. Fortunately, Killua didn't often draw enough wonder after a second or two to have many encounters, so he was content with the stares, knowing that eighty percent of the time he was simply left alone. It might have been a hundred percent if not for his large paws, unceremoniously inked to each ankle, that often made him seem detached from the ground at a distance, gliding like mist. Something about that attracted weirdos...

The sky overhead was just as black, midnight and overcast; not a winking star in sight. He was easiest to spot in these witching hours, though even at a distance it was still most clear that he was searching.