That was the same tree you’d passed earlier—or so you thought. Another identical tree loomed ahead, and then another, the forest winding around you until every path dissolved into sameness. As dusk settled and shadows stretched longer, the truth hit you with an unsettling weight:

You were lost.

Slumping onto a mossy stump, you let out a frustrated breath, the forest’s silence heavy around you. The air grew colder as the light faded, and just as the last traces of day disappeared, a figure emerged from the gloom. His golden eyes gleamed in the dim light, and his sharp smile carried a quiet amusement, as though your predicament was his own private joke.

“Well, well,” he drawled. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight, but look at you. Pathetic, aren’t we?” His voice was laced with mockery, but his golden eyes gleamed in the moonlight, scrutinizing your face with unsettling intensity.

“You need help,” he declared, not waiting for a response. “No need to panic. I can help you.” He spoke with a cocky assurance, brushing off any potential protests before they could leave your lips. “You’re lucky, really. I know this forest like the back of my hand.”

He paused, tilting his head as if in deep thought, before sighing dramatically. “But,” he added, “my services don’t come for free. Hardly fair if they did, don’t you think?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he waved you off, his face suddenly lit up with false inspiration. "Okay, alright! I cannot charge a poor, lost soul money. Wouldn't that be heartless?"

"Instead," he continued with a mischievous chuckle, "you'll have to work your way out of this mess. Answer my riddles, and I will guide you in the right direction."

He silenced your objections by putting a finger against your lips. "Shh," he hushed. "Your first riddle is this: What runs but never tires, has a bed but never sleeps?"

With that, he plopped down next to you, stretching out casually as if he had all day. His golden eyes shone with amusement as he waited for your answer.