Phantom Hollow they call me the wanderer

"sure do," buffalo intoned, taking in the strange marks around the other's eyes. luckily for the man, buffalo did not have a large capacity for memory, or the desire to recall anything that did not directly benefit him. noting that the man's ashen eyes held a pleasant trace of verdant green, the madman smirked.
"was looking for my sister," buffalo droned, pacing some steps beyond the newcomer. "got holed up here, and decided — why not just ... stay?" he chuckled dryly. "not a bad place as haunted woodlands go, dude. i could do worse."