A loud yell from one of the towns shopkeepers rang through the air as he zoomed back into the forest where he was born. The shopkeeper ran through the forest, chasing him. But he was too fast for him. He was lucky he was naturally so fast, or else he wouldn't have been able to get away, and he would be caught, and trapped in the bad cage. He hated the thought of that. It was so dumb! How else would people get food? He put the bag in his mouth, scaling the tree quickly with his bare hands. He knew that the tree would protect him as it always did. He never knew why, but it always was impossible for others to get him up in this tree. Or even get in the tree. But he could.
He stuck out his tongue at the man below, laughing as he hopped further into the high branches, his rough hands scraping against the bark as he pulled himself up higher. But, the cloth draped over his body that he had been given by some kind woman who saw him naked got snagged on a particularly sharp branch, tugging him back. He lost his grip on the top branch out of surprise, and down he went, flopping through the branches and even breaking a few. He fell to the ground with an oof noise, the air knocked out of him and a large new tear in his cloth. Thank.. the tree that the shopkeeper had already given up. He got up, brushing off his body. But his head really hurt. A white-hot searing pain ran through his head. He reached up to feel where it hurt, which was mainly his horns.
His horns! Where were they?? They couldn't have just disappeared! He looked up in the tree, then down at the ground. There his horns- well, the broken ones- were. He knelt to pick them up, frowning. He looked back in the direction of the village, anger bubbling inside him. This was their fault. It's all their fault! If they hadn't been so stupid and selfish then this wouldn't have happened! He thought, slumping back down onto the ground under the tree, burying his face in his knees. These little anger bursts happened regularly when something went wrong, which was often. He was an angry little child. And his name was Xavius. Xavius, meaning 'new house.' He didn't understand the concept of names. But he had gotten it when with the nice woman. He didn't know who she was, either. But she had taught him a lot, like how to hunt, how to fight, how to scavenge, and more. But one day she was gone. He missed her a lot. He cared for her so much. And she had just left him. He never wanted to care again. And so he wouldn't. That's why he still lived in the woods, alone. The villagers didn't like him. But he didn't understand why.
Speaking of this Xavius boy. He was a meaty child. Healthy, that's for sure. He had a strong, more stout build. He could easily jump from tree to tree if close enough (and if nothing snagged his cloth!), and he was a great hunter. He would even take down entire male deers! (Okay, well maybe he was exaggerating, but he was still really strong.) He had completely black, long thick hair that trailed down his back and ended near his abdomen area. His cloth which was snagged earlier, exposed his arms, shoulders, neck and everything below his knees. Now it had a large tear in it, going up to at least his upper thigh. He wore no shoes, and his tanned skin was dotted with freckles. A while ago, a few years ago, a group of people had come into the forest and moved into the building that was further in the forest, in a clearing that no one occupied. He was okay with it, after all, they could probably get better use out of it. He used to hang out with them. They had moved away a few months ago, but he wasn't sure why. But he used to hang out with them. They had a lot of cool yellow looking metal things. One of them offered to give him one of their body-decorations. Of course he had accepted, they looked so tough and cool. It hurt a lot when he first got it, and it took a few days to heal, but now it doesn't hurt. One of the yellow metal things, in a circle. They pierced it through the middle inside his nose.
He sighed as he finished his angry reminiscing, and got up. His horns no longer hurt, and he wasn't too mad anymore. They would probably grow back, like how they do when it's time to shed them. He looked down at the tear and thought. He would have to go into town again and suck up to one of the sewing maidens to get them to fix it. He didn't look very pathetic though. He'd just tell her that it was his birthday. Whatever that is. He had heard it in town and apparently people celebrated it. Yeah, that sounds reasonable enough.
He headed off, walking through the forest. It was a thick and unkempt area. He liked it like that, because it meant that there were more animals. And more hiding places. And it was just pretty. Especially with all the trees. A stream nearby ran through the area, and that's where he got his water. Multiple times he had to fight off the townsfolk who wanted to get rid of all the pretty trees and greenery. He didn't know for what, but this was his forest and he wasn't going to let go. Speaking of such, he soon broke into a run. Not because something was following him, just because it felt good to stretch his legs and feel the rush. He quickly got to the village, glancing around for anyone who might recognize him and chase him away. He knocked on the sewing ladies door. A few seconds of shuffling before the door opened up.
But it wasn't the sewing lady.
It was a tall, bloody and scarred man.
Who looked like he had just found his next victim.
