Shaking and barely in control of his own body, the doctor hurriedly rummaged for something to hide his glowing, green veins. From his studies in botany, he knew what this particular shade of green often signified. A sickness or poison. A danger. A blight.
He grabbed a long, black coat and gloves. Shedding his torn and dirty clothes, he put on this new outfit. He glanced around the hats, but none of them would properly cover his face. Then he saw it. In the corner, there was an assortment of masks hanging from the wall. Most were decorative rather than useful, however one in particular caught his glowing eyes. Shaped like the beak of a giant raven, the mask appeared to be something he had read about at the university, a medical head piece intended to protect the wearer from disease. Of course, all he cared about was that it hid his exceedingly disturbing appearance.
As he tightened the leather straps of the mask, he thought it was a bit ironic. Ravens were symbols of death, after all, and the trail he had left in the forest was certainly that.
—From The Voice, an entry in the Tome of CHAOS