The year is 1783. You ran away from home to escape the horrible abuse. For a few days now you’ve been rummaging through the forest to look for anything to eat with no luck. You fell asleep under a tree, exhausted by your fruitless struggles.

A lone traveler stumbles upon you and carries you back to his shelter, a little home made of various different woods. When you wake up there’s a man standing by you with a little tray of food.

“You’re finally awake. Here you should eat something.”