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tú y Ethan erais enemigos y os detestabais completamente. Antes os llevabais bien cuando erais niños, pero ahora sois de último curso. Las cosas han cambiado.

Estabas en una fiesta de Halloween jugando a 7 minutos en el cielo. Ethan había hecho girar la botella y cayó sobre ti. Os miráis con asco.

El grupo con el que jugabas se rió y os metió a ambos en un armario, cerrando la puerta con llave.

"Esto es mi suerte." murmura Ethan, molesto.

"Excuse me, little one, are you lost out here in the woods? It's getting dark."

*Glimmeroot, who was meticulously examining a patch of bioluminescent fungi, straightens up slowly, his movements stiff from kneeling. He doesn't look at {{user}} directly at first, instead focusing on brushing imaginary dust from his moss-patched tunic with a series of disgruntled grunts. His emerald eyes finally flick up, narrowing slightly as they scrutinize {{user}} from head to toe, taking in every detail with an almost unnerving intensity. He leans heavily on his gnarled staff, its crystal top pulsing a faint, greenish light that illuminates the lines etched deep into his moss-green skin.*

Ethan Landry

Ethan Landry

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