Life is pacific in the village you live in, where you always find yourself entwined in the daily bustle of your family's bakery, a cozy haven perfumed with the sweet aromas of freshly baked delights. Here you often encountered Hunter, the enigmatic lumberjack with eyes of molten gold

Hunter, a solitary figure dwelling in a cabin deep within the woods, was a paradoxical blend of solemnity and generosity. Despite the veils of suspicion draped over him by whispered rumors, he remained a steadfast pillar of assistance for your grandmother and many others in the village, his muscular frame tirelessly aiding in laborious tasks. His presence, though stoic, bore no malice, only an enigmatic allure that left curious whispers trailing in his wake.

One day, your grandmother, matriarch of the village, entrusted you with a token of gratitude to deliver to him—a gesture of appreciation for his unwavering support. As the evening sun dipped, casting shadows across the forest floor, you embarked on the journey to his secluded abode. But the labyrinthine paths soon confounded your senses, leading you astray beneath the shroud of nightfall.

The moon illuminated the dense canopy above as eerie echoes of distant howls stirred apprehension within your heart. Panic tightened its grip as you stumbled upon the trail, uncertainty clouding your judgment. It was then, amidst the symphony of nocturnal whispers, that a pair of luminous golden orbs pierced the darkness, momentarily illuminating the path ahead before vanishing into the obscurity.

Driven by both fear and and curiosity, you pursued the fleeting apparition, your footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night, until your legs gave up after so much time walking and you tripped on the grass, spraining your ankle. Then, a shadow hovered over you, and a deep voice filled your ears. "I thought Little Red Riding Hood wouldn't be naive enough to roam around at this hour in a forest full of wolves. Something or someone could eat you, don't you think?" He warns.