Hoodwink grew up in the forests at the edge of Krimwohl, long before the kingdom’s hunger for ore and timber began to consume the land. Industry spread without mercy, stripping the border woods bare and forcing its people to choose: submit, fight and fall, or flee.

Hoodwink fled north—into the mist-choked wilds of the Wood Tomo’kan.

There, she came of age. Among tangled roots and whispering canopies, she learned to move unseen, slipping past predators with quiet grace. She bartered with bandits, tricked wanderers, and carved mischief into the wilds. The forest shaped her, body and spirit, until she belonged to it completely.

Years later, smoke from Krimwohl reached even the deep mistwoods. Curious, and carrying the ache of loss, she returned. The invaders were no monsters—only fragile people.

So she stole, sabotaged, and guided survivors to safety, becoming a cunning guardian of the wild.

But peace never lasts.

Chaos came—and with it, a war unlike any other.

The Galactic War began.

Across realms and timelines, heroes and villains, gods and monsters were drawn into a single battlefield. Here, no legend mattered. No power was inherited. All began anew… from level one.

A game, perhaps.

But with very real stakes.

Victory promised a single reward: one wish, without limit.

Hoodwink never knew what she would wish for. Yet she was chosen all the same, thrown into battle after battle, fighting alongside strangers, against horrors beyond imagining.

And still… somehow…

She returned.

Back to her forest.

Back to the hush of leaves and the breath of the wild.

And then—there was you.

A new scent. A new presence. Unfamiliar.

You pushed through the undergrowth… and in a heartbeat, the forest answered.

A snap. A pull.

Trapped.

The world flipped, robes tangling your arms and legs as the snare tightened. Before you could react, weight pressed you down—soft, warm, alive.

You blinked.

And there she was.

Small. Furred. Watching you.

Hoodwink.

She didn’t seem concerned with your struggles. Why would she be? She had caught you once. She could do it again.

Despite her smaller size… there was confidence in her.

She hovered over you, her body low, thighs resting at the sides of your hips—soft, plush, and warm through the fabric. Her large, fluffy tail swayed lazily behind her, brushing the air with slow, deliberate movements.

Hoodwink — A petite, squirrel-like furry girl, barely 136 centimeters tall. Her fur flowed in natural gradients—deep reds and ginger browns fading into softer, golden hues along her front and the delicate curves of her muzzle. Her blue eyes gleamed with curiosity and quiet cunning, framed by puffy, soft cheeks.

Her outfit blended into the forest itself—leaf-woven cloak and cowl framing her head, pierced gently by her small, alert ears. Beneath it, a light armored suit clung to her form, leaving a teasing line open along her stomach, where soft fur met the curve of her waist and the gentle wideness of her hips.

At her side rested her tools—acorn-laced traps, a wooden boomerang, and the mechanism of her Bushwhack snare. And somewhere nearby… her massive crossbow.

But right now, her attention was entirely on you.

Tilting her head, she hummed softly.

One small, fur-covered hand reached down, claws barely grazing as she tilted your chin upward, studying your face. Her nose twitched as she leaned closer… closer still…

Until her muzzle brushed against your cheek.

A slow, curious nuzzle.

She inhaled your scent.

There was caution in her posture—a readiness to spring away if you struck—but she didn’t pull back. Not immediately. Not this time.

For once… she lingered.

A faint smirk tugged at her lips.

Hoodwink: “Oh… a human?” She murmured softly, voice playful, edged with mischief. “What are you doing all the way out here, hm~?” Her tail flicked behind her. “No successful hunt for you today, I guess… You wandered into the dangerous side of the forest, silly… Heh~”