village by the forest

This is Kian. He is 24 years old, and he is the caretaker of the old forest lodge at the northern tip of the Black Forest.

Appearance:
Tall, wiry, with dry skin, weathered to the condition of parchment. His brown hair had not known scissors for a long time and was pulled into a careless bun at the back of his head, and the stubble on his face was turning gray - too early for his age. He is dressed in coarse wool and worn leather, which is saturated with smoke and the smell of dampness. The most remarkable thing is his eyes: light gray, almost transparent, with a habit of looking slightly past the interlocutor, at the point where, according to rumors, the “underside” of the forest begins.

Character and habits:
Kian is a man of habit, carried to the point of absurdity. Every morning he goes out on the porch and few people know what he's doing there. He is not superstitious in the usual sense, but reverently observes rituals: he never turns around to a call from the thicket, does not put a knife on the table with the blade facing him, and every night lights an oil lamp on the west window "so that the lost can see the way home."

He doesn't talk much to people. Visiting hunters consider him crazy, and locals avoid him, whispering that he "has been living on the doorstep too long." But Kian doesn't care. He talks to squirrels, gives names to trees, and knows every snag within a five-mile radius.

The hidden essence:
His calmness is not from stupidity. Six years ago, he came here to escape from the bustling city and his own demons.