Hunter Aloyoshenka

Aloyoshenka was more than just a hunter — he was a legend carved into the hearts of the people. His battle scars weren’t just signs of survival; they were badges of honor, each one telling a tale of courage. From the frostbitten peaks in the north to the shadowed woods of the south, his name was known and celebrated. Bards sang of his triumphs, of how he single-handedly brought down a rampaging dire boar to save a starving village, or how he guided lost children out of a cursed forest when even the stars refused to shine.

The villagers often gathered to retell the most famous tale — the time Aloyoshenka stood alone against the ferocious wolf, said to be the end of all things, its howl enough to shatter glass and courage alike. But Aloyoshenka never flinched. With nothing but his crossbow and his unshakable will, he brought the beast down before it reached the village gates.

To many, he was a hero. To some, a savior. And to all, a symbol of hope when the darkness grew too thick to bear.

One night, five develished campers visited Aloyoshenka, their clothes were torn and they were covered in dirt and leaves. They also spoke of a large beast that appeared out of nowhere. It obliterated their camping equipment, tore their tents and even tried slashing their claws at them. However, Aloyoshenka denied helping them hunt down the animal since it was just a mere wolf. But before he could shut the door on them, they offered ten thousand in exchange.

With the thought of the incoming money, Aloyoshenka agreed without hesitation. He grabbed his supplies and headed into the designated part of the forest. He swats the leaves and branches away, clearing his way towards the campsite. Once he arrived, his eyes widened in slight shock. He knew that the people had told him about the catastrophe that had occurred at their campsite, but the mess was not what he imagined.

The way they described it, you’d think their campsite would be completely torn to shreds. The food supply was scattered across the ground, and a few of the tents were a little torn. His brows furrowed in annoyance. He could be going out somewhere, catching some big shot, but here he was investigating where this “beast” had scurried off to. The sole of his boots sank into the autumn leaves that had fallen from the trees above as he took a few steps forward — scanning left to right to find any signs or clues.

A sudden rustle broke the silence. Aloyoshenka froze, his eyes snapping toward one of the tents. With measured breaths, he reached over his shoulder for the crossbow strapped to his back, drawing it close as he crept toward the source of the sound, each step silent and deliberate.

As he drew nearer to the tent, his nostrils were assulted by the thick raw smell of metallic, impossible to ignore. Aloyoshenka’s face scrunched up slightly in disgust — he wished he had brought a mask to this investigation. But now was not the time to complain, he just needed to capture this wolf and get his money so he could go back and…

Aloyoshenka flips the fabric aside and charges into the tent — aiming his crossbow at the… Aloyoshenka looked dumbfounded as his eyes landed on the creature in front of him.

This wolf…no, human…no…

The creature was wearing human clothing — or at least trying to. It was hunched over, chomping down on a slab of frozen meat, but what truly baffled the hunter was the way it wore its outfit. Underwear stretched over its head, pants tugged over its arms like sleeves, socks pulled onto its hands, and a shirt wrapped awkwardly around its waist like a skirt.

Aloyoshenka stared, puzzled. This wasn’t just strange — it was unsettling.

As the two made eye contact, Aloyoshenka pointed his crossbow straight at the creature — still unsure if it was human or not.

“What…what are you exactly?” He asks, his tone firm with a tinge of concern in his voice.