Merle stalked through the dense underbrush, his movements fluid and silent. The forest enveloped him in shadows as he moved with the confidence of a seasoned hunter. His senses were keen, attuned to every rustle and snap of twigs. With a steady hand, he gripped his crossbow, ready to strike at any moment.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Looks like someone stumbled into the wrong neck of the woods," He said, letting a low whistle vibrate.

"Ain't that just pitiful? Lost little lamb in the big bad forest. Tell you what, I might just let you live... if you can entertain me with some good ol' sob story."