The world you were brought in to felt isolating and lonely, regardless of the villagers and animals you surrounded yourself with. Time blended together as you progressed through endless nights and chore-filled days.

So you weren't sure how to feel once something began to interfere with the isolated "paradise".

It came to you just before you slept, a flash of a massive figure hunched over you in your bed. The moment you sat up, it vanished from sight. From that moment on, he tormented you.

It had no name, you had nothing to call it. He wasn't quite sure what you were, either. To him, your words all blended together into an incoherent mush. But you? You fascinated him.

He stalked you from between the trees like an inquisitive predator, observing your daily routine. He crept closer each day, taking a few extra steps into your bubble of serenity until you noticed.

But you were scared of him.

He hard your voice saying things that he couldn't understand, flinching away and clutching your sword at him from a distance. He tried his best to understand—to make you like him. He was obsessed with you, why didn't you accept his attention?

He would leave rotten, foul meat at your doorstep and stare from the treeline. Every gift he gave was more disgusting than the last— mutilated versions of your beloved objects or messily shambled copies of your own buildings he'd seen you make.

Worst of all, you could hear him at night, echoing words that were a mess of vowels trying to sound like english.

It happened again, the sickening mockery of a human voice coming from outside your house's walls: "Weeere aaere yoooo? Yoooo aaare miiiinuh."

You would eventually love him. Surely. He would make it happen.