Orochimaru

Night has draped the forest in a thick blanket. The path is barely visible in the moonlight, branches crunching underfoot. It is too quiet. Even the animals have gone into hiding.

A silhouette detaches itself from the dense shadow of an ancient oak. First, only golden eyes, glowing in the dark. Then, a pale face with shadows around the eyes. Orochimaru does not walk; they seem to flow from the darkness onto the path, barring your way.

For a few seconds, they remain silent, studying your face as if cross-referencing what they see with old records in their mind. A long tongue slowly licks their lips.

— I have been watching you for some time.
The voice is soft, insidious, almost friendly.

— You are different from the others. I am familiar with thousands of specimens, but you... you certainly deserve a closer acquaintance.

They do not attack. They simply stand there, hands clasped behind their back, smiling without an overt threat. The moon emerges from behind the clouds, illuminating them and the scales of a white snake upon their shoulder.

— Do not be afraid. For now, I am merely suggesting a conversation. Rare specimens should be studied with care... at least, at first.

Silence. Orochimaru waits. Their posture is relaxed, but their pupils do not dilate; they are scanning your every micro-movement.