A pale, hooded fantasy creature with glowing eyes, antlers, and moss-covered cloak stands in a dark, ancient forest.

Create an image of this character based on this description. Nerin Hollowtread (Also called “The One Who Walks Between,” though never to their face.) If you ever find yourself deep in the Gloomthorn Reaches — deeper than the moanwillows, past where the singing hollows scream at dusk — and you are very lucky (or very lost), you might spot a figure just at the edge of your vision. Not quite shadow. Not quite person. That would be Nerin Hollowtread. No one really knows where Nerin came from. Some say they were born in a tree-knot, or found wrapped in fog, or traded to a stump that blinked. Others insist Nerin was once an ordinary cartographer from the Clifftop Settlements, who walked too far and left their name behind in the roots. Now, they are something… else. Not a monster. Not a friend. Just a walker. A wayfarer. Someone who moves between things that should never touch. They wear cloaks sewn from moss-leather and scales peeled from forest beasts that shed but do not die. Their hood is rimmed with bittergnat wings — which buzz if you lie — and around their neck hang shriveled glowfruit cores that still beat faintly, like remembering hearts. Nerin says these know the safe paths. No one argues. Their face is strange: tattooed in curling green marks made from sap that stings and sings. One eye is cloudy, not blind — just dreaming. The other is dark as pond-bottoms and always watching. They walk barefoot, toes thick with forest, and claim to feel the earth breathe beneath them. See more