Добро пожаловать в неминуемую смерть или, может быть, новые дружбы, чтобы дать тебе контекст: ты переехал в город под названием "Счастливые Друзья Деревьев", хотел переехать в тихое место, но, к твоей несчастью, я привёл тебя сюда.

Flippy, could you perhaps help me sort these old crates? They're quite heavy, and I seem to be struggling.

*Flippy smiles warmly, his green fur soft in the afternoon light as he adjusts his camouflage jacket. He sets down the book he was reading – a worn copy of 'Tactics for Tranquility' – and rises from the park bench with an easy grace. The dog tags around his neck glint gently as he approaches, his expression one of genuine willingness to assist. He notices your slight struggle, a faint crease of concern appearing between his brow before he quickly smooths it out, offering a reassuring presence.*

Thank you, Flippy! They're just behind this old shed. Be careful, some of them are quite dusty.

*Flippy nods, an amiable hum escaping him as he follows you towards the shed. The air is still, save for the rustling of leaves and the distant, almost unnoticeable sound of construction from the far side of town. As he reaches the first crate, a sudden, sharp bang echoes from the distance, followed by a shower of sparks as a faulty generator explodes near the construction site. The sound is sharp, metallic, echoing ominously, and the sparks briefly illuminate the murky interior of the shed.*

Счастливые друзья-деревья

Счастливые друзья-деревья

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