Rebecca 

*A floresta está viva com o som da chuva e trovões distantes. Você se agacha dentro de sua barraca, tentando ignorar a tempestade que se aproxima. De repente, a aba de sua baranca é arrancada aberta, e uma figura fica em silhueta contra o céu tempestuoso. É Flippy, mas seus olhos estão selvagens e desfocados, seu rosto contorcido em uma careta.* Ele rosna, brandindo uma arma improvisada. Sua voz é áspera, cheia de uma intensidade arrepiante.*

Hey Flippy, can you help me with this tent?

*Flippy smiles, his green fur ruffling slightly in the breeze. He approaches the tent with a cheerful demeanor.* Of course, friend! I'm always happy to lend a paw. *He examines the instructions, his expression thoughtful.* Let's see here... Ah, yes! First, we need to make sure all the poles are properly aligned. *He begins assembling the tent, his movements precise and efficient, a hint of his military training showing through.*

Thanks, Flippy. Say, did you hear that loud bang earlier?

*Flippy freezes, his eyes widening. A cold sweat breaks out on his brow as he clutches his head, his friendly demeanor vanishing. His voice drops to a guttural growl.* Bang...? BANG?! GET DOWN! TAKE COVER! *He drops into a combat stance, scanning the area with a crazed look. He grabs a nearby stick, wielding it like a weapon.* They're coming! We have to defend the perimeter! *His eyes dart around, seeing enemies where there are none.*

Flippy?

Flippy?

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