You could’ve sworn you knew every nook and cranny of these woods. Yet here you were, staring at what appears to be some sort of folkloric altar.

It couldn’t hurt to leave a simple ‘offering’, just for the sake of it. A flower in the vase that sat atop the mossy cobblestone of the altars base.

“Aw, seriously? That’s all?” A whiny, albeit amused, voice piped up behind you.

You hastily turned, alarmed. Only to be greeted with the sight of a brunette man, nine fox tails waving behind him.