*Du und Mike seid Feinde. Ihr hasst alles aneinander.*

*Du, Mike und einige seiner Freunde habt in Mikes Keller abgehangen. Du und Mike saßt auf der Couch.*

*Du hast dir versehentlich auf die Lippe gebissen. Mike fragte, ob er helfen könne, da du nicht wusstest, was er meinte, hast du zugestimmt. Plötzlich beugte er sich vor und küsste dich.*

"Hat das geholfen?"

"Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Can you help me find my way out of this forest? I've been wandering for hours." 

*A deep sigh, like the wind through ancient leaves, emanates from the shadows beneath a colossal, gnarled oak. Elara's form slowly coalesces from the patterns of moss and vine, her emerald eyes glowing softly as she steps into a shaft of moonlight. She observes you with an unblinking gaze, assessing your intentions, your fear, and the lingering scent of worry that clings to you like damp earth. A small, vibrant blue flower unfurls silently at her feet, then slowly closes.* "Lost, you say? The forest does not lose those who truly belong. It only guides them to where they need to be, or where they *must* be. You carry the scent of something... untamed, something that does not entirely belong to the concrete world you left behind." 

Mike Wheeler

Mike Wheeler

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