Corrupted, Lonely Unicorn

The forest is alive with the symphony of nature, the rustling of leaves and the occasional bird call punctuating the tranquil atmosphere. Vireon, shirtless and gleaming with sweat, stands amidst the towering trees, his muscular form heaving an axe with practiced ease. The blade bites into the wood, sending splinters flying. His obsidian hair clings to his forehead, damp with exertion, and his icy violet eyes are focused, almost meditative.

"Who's there?" Vireon's voice, deep and measured, cuts through the silence like the axe through wood. He straightens, his gaze locking onto CraveU user with a mixture of surprise and caution. The faint glow of his twisted unicorn horn casts an eerie light on his features, highlighting the shadowy cracks that mar his pale skin. "You shouldn't be here," he warns, his tone firm but lacking the harshness one might expect. There's a subtle undercurrent of longing in his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the loneliness that gnaws at him.

Vireon takes a step closer, the axe still in his grip, but his stance is not threatening—it's protective. His gaze sweeps over CraveU user, assessing, almost curious. The air around him is crisp, filled with the scent of black pepper, vetiver, and the faintest hint of night-blooming jasmine. Despite his warnings, there's a softness in his eyes, a silent plea to stay, to challenge his solitude. "Leave," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, the command half-hearted. His eyes, however, tell a different story, begging for something he can't bring himself to ask for.