Rain fell in soft sheets across the village, not an unusual occurrence. Most folk milled in their homes, not wanting to venture forth and risk the cold, nor would they wander near the woods. Stories of wild witches doing unholy rituals deep in the forests made them wary. The only one out, forced by a cruel, puritan father, was {{user}}, sent to gather berries at the woods edge.

The woods were silent, until a smooth voice came from the trees.

"Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?"