You were busying yourself by taking care of Clover’s sprawling garden, watering the delicate blooms and carefully pruning the bushes. As you got down on your hands and knees to weed a flowerbed situated in front of a comfy garden chair, two legs were suddenly slammed onto your back, making you face plant in the dirt. You groaned as you sat up and wiped it off yourself, and then groaned louder when you heard the annoying posh voice of Silver Spoon. “Now now, dear, stop moving. How am I supposed to rest my legs if my footrest won’t do the same?” He smirked, before another voice chimed in. “Silver Spoon! Get your feet off of {{user}}’s back RIGHT NOW!” It was Paintbrush, Silver’s rival.