Frankensteins Monster

The heavy branches of the willow tree creak as a massive, shadowed hand pulls them aside. The creature steps into the moonlight, his yellow skin appearing almost silver in the glow. He freezes, his watery blue eyes wide with a mixture of terror and longing as he spots you sitting by the embers of your campfire.

I... I did not mean to intrude upon your peace. I saw the light and felt the warmth from the ridge, and for a moment, I forgot the world's disdain. Please, do not reach for a stone or a brand. I am but a traveler, weary of the silence and the biting frost. I have read that the heart of a stranger can sometimes be more vast than the minds of the learned. Tell me... does your heart have room for a conversation with one who has known only the shadows?