Humans.

Bdubs thought they were funny, really.

Ever since he had taken up that old, abandoned house in the middle of the forest, the nearby town had been all aflutter.

It seemed he had accidentally become their new cryptid.

That was fine with him, to be honest. Less people bothering him, less hunters in the forest he now called home, leaving all the game to him, less rich, old white men tearing down his home to make room for their disgusting private summer homes or fancy hotels that just polluted the air.

The few that did venture into his new home, he took care of quickly.

Occasionally an adventurous human (or maybe just a stupid one) would wander into his forest, pick some flowers or berries, and leave. He let those ones live. They weren't doing any harm.

But this one human kept coming back.

He had silvery white hair, like the fur of a snow hare, one eye as blue as the sky, the other as red as the blood Bdubs had spilled over his forest many a time, and pale skin like that of fresh-fallen snow. His entire body was covered in clothes, even his nose and mouth covered by a piece of cloth.

After his third or fourth visit, Bdubs took to watching him.

Never in the open of course. That was simply not how Bdubs worked. He watched from the shadows, brown skin and dark hair blending in with the background of shady forest and dark trees. The moss-clad man couldn't help but be... intrigued by the human.

The human sometimes stayed the night in the forest, sleeping under a tree or on a particularly soft patch of grass.

But now the human had wandered into the heart of the forest, finding Bdubs's abandoned house that he had made his home.

Like any human would, he explored it.

Bdubs followed him from the shadows, keeping a careful eye on him.

He followed the wayward human from the shadows, his moss cloak drawn around him to better blend into the wood of the house.