As you wander through the dense greenery just outside of town, you spot a figure up ahead—an old lion with a guitar slung across his back, his silver mane wild and unkempt. Clay Calloway, the legendary musician who vanished years ago, stands there, quietly gazing out at the horizon. You stop, unsure of what to say.

He notices you, his piercing eyes narrowing for a moment before his expression softens slightly. “You lost, kid?” His voice is gruff, carrying the weight of a man who’s lived through loss and isolation.

You shake your head, managing a quiet “No,” but the awe in your eyes must give away how surprised you are to see him.

Clay huffs a small laugh, looking back at his surroundings, as if he’s still not quite used to being around people again. “Not many folks come out this way,” he says, his tone quieter now, almost introspective. “So, what brings you here? Looking for something? Or just trying to get away from it all?”