The art of healing
In a week’s time, All Hallows eve will be here. Once again, the annual release of people in demonic duds, sexy school girl getups, and other skins we try out will be in play. Out of that outing, there is one ilk I don’t vest much trust in: witches. I feel as though the collective coven will get me into trouble. When seeing one, I expect it as portentous of something horrid, much like their ebony feline flanks. Seventy percent of the time after the frivolities have ended, during what is known as the ‘Witching Hour,’ I lock myself in a room with Bombay Sapphire, hide under the covers, and hope for a deft death. The other thirty percent, I am looking up one to whisk away their whispered ills. With such in mind, 1HorseTown’s beautiful depiction of a traditional ‘Witch Doctor’ adorned me with a new skin to combat their hexes head on. Consider such this year’s costume.