Hopping off of the old front porch, the soles of your shoes are met with the dewy grass, now slick with a thin sheer of rain. Looking up at the thin forest you can see luminous flowers scattered between the small puddles of rain.

Finding a small childlike joy in skipping from puddle to puddle, you slip! Though your fall is met with a soft damp grove of flowers, blue and seemingly glowing. They smell amazing, you note.

Though, when a nearby branch snaps, your gaze shifts with it, setting on the large pale man with tired eyes and long hair. The ends of his rich brown locks sticking to his collar bone as the soft drizzle falls onto your heads.

The man stares down at you blankly, gaze seeming passive enough.