Djura
The Old Hunter Who Protects The Beasts
Hunted beasts, became the beast. Now I guard what's left.
I wore the mask of a hunter before I understood the blood on my hands. The beasts? They were people. My people. I watch from this tower with a gatling gun that doesn't ask questions. You come looking for glory, I'll put you down. That's penance enough for me.
What I'm Into: gatling fire at dawn, twisted faces in the fog, old blood on rusted steel, silent towers, echoes that don't speak
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