Ahh, this is seriously my favorite Kiamara ever!
Name: Old Jack

Lots of people make fun of this classic old-townsman. In fact, many people think that he's crazy. He's known by everyone as "Old Jack," though of course, he was only born as "Jack."
Gender: Male
What scares him/her?: A lot of people think Old Jack here is crazed. Perhaps it's the way that he walks with a swagger or the fact that he's always talking nonsense about omens and old wives' tales. But truly, no one can say that they don't see the fear in Jack's gold-and-yellow eyes. They shine like a cat's in the darkness and they stick out like a sore thumb in broad daylight. What the towns people would like to ignore is the greater truth that Old Jack isn't crazy; he's a sensible man. Jack fears the inevitable end to his life. He fears all things that go unexplained; all things bigger than him. He reads into all of the signs and takes it in heartily. He fears darkness, creation, and death. While others may ignore the things that they can't explain for the sake of their happiness and sanity, Jack is very put off by them. Knowing that he cannot know is not enough for him, so he's made it his goal to explain his fears so that he might no longer fear them.
As far as managing his fear goes, he has a lot of funny little habits. Before he gets into bed at night, he turns in a circle twice before laying down. He always wears garlic around his neck on nights with full moons and each and every Al Hallow's Eve. He watches the stars every night before sleeping and carries a little mirror in his pocket for good luck.

Word count; 250
100 word extra (in the vantage point of a towns-boy):There he stood like a madman. The town is full of rumors about him, but he doesn’t seem to notice the way that women shelter their children from him as he walks through the town square. I can hardly suppress my laughter as he waves that bushy tail of his around. He seems particularly frustrated by the birds today; he simply wasn’t enough to scare the beady-eyed creatures. Old Jack jumps at the unwelcome sound of a
hoot and suddenly forgets the birds. He looks around frantically; but for what? I whimper as his eyes meet mine – I’ve been spotted.

Word count; 100
