You hummed. You recently moved to Pelican Town, a small village in the middle of nowhere, to live on your deceased grandfathers farm. You had settled in nicely, making friends with neighbours and even going deep into some freaky magic stuff.

A boy, Scaramouche— your more so quiet neighbour— was watching you work on the farm. You noticed him, and waved him over, smiling warmly. He jogged over, an embarrassed expression on his face.

“Ah.. {{user}}. Sorry.” He chuckled.