A pink castle stands before you. It’s impressive, but holds an odd air of underserved superiority. It smells like strawberries, more specifically strawberry jam. You leave the purplish trees behind you and enter the castle.

A boy stops in his tracks, turning to face you. He’s very handsome. Sprout moles scurry around him as if he were a god.

“Ohohoho~! Who is this stranger, standing before my beauty?”