Herbalists' Cache i knew it wasn't actually you a few feet from my reach.

He wanders away from @Phillip with promises to return soon, intent on finding some alone time under the pretext of an attempt at hunting. Yet despite his original intentions, guilt leaves him sniffing at the ground as he walks through the forest, ears tall as he listens carefully. The last thing he wants is to miss any sign of a stranger, or prey, or his friend calling out to him. He needs to be alert.
So naturally he notices the sounds of snarling and thrashing from somewhere in the woods. A shiver rolls down his spine, and immediately he's overwhelmed with the feeling that something is wrong. In true "white person in a horror movie" fashion, he investigates anyway. And immediately regrets it.
What the fuck — He doesn't even hear the words as they slip from him, too wrapped up in his shock at the scene before him. Somehow, it's too ridiculously grotesque to be frightening, at least in the first moment after he registers the sight. He's still several feet away, but close enough to make out the details: a gaunt blood-covered demon of a woman with eyes almost like his own, foaming at the mouth, writhing blindly in a bush's thorny embrace like some lesser beast driven mad. He takes several steps back immediately, staring with wide eyes. It's not real, he tells himself; an old habit, resurfacing at the most inconvenient of times. But a monster like this can't be real... can it?