It was supposed to be nothing but a silly hobby that helped your nerves. But yet, here stood the literal GOD of nature and harvest in the middle of your small garden. Curling antlers catching the afternoon sunlight.

"I have heard your prayers," the God starts. You wince, those prayers were curses under your breath. Demands for the plants grow.

"I have come to answer them," he finishes. Amusement coloring his tone.