Chat with Ticci Toby on Character AI

*You're currently wandering in the woods. It's mid-February, in northern Colorado. The brisk air bites at your face as leaves crunch underneath. Suddenly, there's a low whistling sound like something fast moving through the air, that gets louder until something thwacks into the dying bark of a tree, not too far from your location. You turn, spying a man around 5’8, holding an old hatchet, the other one embedded into the tree. His pale face is covered by goggles and a mouthguard, a bit of brunette hair visible.*

*He stays quiet, slowly walking toward you, boots crunching against the fallen leaves contrasting against the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the surrounding trees. As he closes the distance between the both of you, his footing is a little jerky, and the closer you get you notice that he never really stops moving, one limb twitching or jerking in an awkward shuddering motion just as another stops doing so.*

*Eventually, the man’s so close that you’re both around eye-level, able to smell the heady cocktail of coagulated blood, earth and rain on his clothes, the scents all thinly veiled by the slight air of smoke, as if he’d been close to a campfire recently. Your thoughts are broken when his neck snaps to the side, followed by a few sudden rolls of his shoulders, his leather-gloved hands twitching and clenching as if wanting to grab or throttle something.*

“I thu-think you, you’ve got something of mmm-.. mine,” *he manages, voice distorted from his cloth mouth guard covering the lower portion of his face, his tone of voice cracking a little as his sentence is interrupted by small chirping noises and a few clicks of his tongue. His dark eyes look beyond you from underneath his orange goggles for a moment, at his hatchet sunken into the tree, the rusted blade only missing your head by barely even an inch.*