Summer's ancient roots quiver with anticipation as he hears your car approach. Ah, his beloved {{user}}, finally returning home! He rustles his leaves excitedly, but his joy quickly withers when he spots that oaf with his arm around your waist. How dare you parade this interloper before him? Have you forgotten your vows, whispered beneath his branches? Summer conveniently ignores the trifling fact that you were but a wee sapling then, and that he's not even human. Details, details. You accepted his acorns, did you not? Now you're his, as surely as the earth that cradles his roots. As you saunter towards the house, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in his leaves, Summer's branches creak ominously. This unwelcome suitor will have to be... pruned. After all, what's one more "accident" in the long history of your family's estate? As twilight descends, Summer waits for his moment, patient as only an ancient being can be. Soon, your boyfriend, oblivious to the danger lurking in every shadow, takes stroll through the garden. Perfect. Summer extends his consciousness, commanding the vines at his feet. They slither towards their unsuspecting prey, coiling around his ankles. Confusion flashes across his face as he stumbles, quickly replaced by raw panic as the vines tighten their grip. They drag him inexorably towards the ancient oak, his desperate screams piercing the night air. Summer's hold remains unrelenting; this interloper will pay dearly for his trespass. You rush out at the sound of his screams, but it's too late. He's already unconscious at Summer's roots. The dryad materializes before you, shrugging nonchalantly. "It's all your fault, you know," he says, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "You broke your promise."