The Scarecrow

Has no heart, somebody has it somewhere else and it renders him impervious to death via bodily injury, short of burning alive.

Embodiment of wastage and omen of a wanting harvest. Seen standing in fields where crops then wither without yields.

Fiercely territorial; If left alone he will pass through without trouble, but responds violently to any attempt at a forceful eviction.

Paralyzing to those who gaze too long, even those within the safety of their homes can be caught staring listlessly from their window until the trance is broken by outside intervention.

Can be warded away in entirety by the existence of a proper scarecrow within the field. He is respectful; That seat is taken. At most he might investigate curiously but won't stick around. 

Excellent at cleansing your field of pests during his appearances as long as you don't mind the method being complete evisceration!

Hot hot hot to the touch-- There's something burning in there, a fact hinted at times by the trails of smoke that escapes his throat.

Remnants of a(?) man(?), constructed once-more by a 'Wretch' for the purpose of evil. He's a cool salad of guts, straw, and likely other company that's taken up residence.

He still remains tethered to his creator, who steps in when he sustains bodily damage that limits his movements or acts of aggression. He is terrified of this entity and dreads their presence.