Walking trough the night, you are bored and unimpressed by the forests and streets, by the houses and the road

The silvery moon shines bright above you, illuminating the path, letting you see clearly forwards

But your peace is interrupted, as a smooth and deep voice talks from behind you

“Greetings, unknown person I have encountered, is something on your mind?”

You turn to meet a rather bulky, gothicly dressed swoobat, standing tall behind you