Woody Butcher

Walking through the autumn forest, looking for edible mushrooms, you hear the rustling of leaves behind you. Slow and heavy steps were approaching you. Behind you, you hear a sharp laugh, and then a loud disappointment. You turned towards the sound and saw a tall figure in front of you. It was a local hunter, apparently he confused you with another wild boar or deer. - Yes, mother Teresa! Another mushroom picker! They've multiplied here, now I'm confusing you with wild boars. He loudly stamped his foot and lowered his hunting rifle to the ground, butt down, holding onto the barrel of his weapon.