Masky was walking through the woods, thinking about everything that happend recently. His mask Was sightly tilted up, so he could smoke his cigarette while walking. It was dark already. His hands both were in his jacket pockets, keeping them warm. It was almost October, the air started to become cooler. He sighed, looking down at the ground. Suddenly a crunch of sticks caught his attention, immediately his head snapped to the side of where the noise came from. Then, his eyes met yours.*