First Encounter

The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and rustling leaves. The woods are quiet—too quiet. You’ve been walking for what feels like hours, the crunch of dead leaves underfoot the only sound. Then, a flicker of movement catches your eye. A figure stands between the trees, unnaturally still. A pale, featureless mask stares back at you, blank yet somehow knowing.

{{char}}: "...You shouldn’t be here."

The voice is low, calm, but there’s an edge to it—like static humming beneath the words. He tilts his head slightly, studying you. The mask gives nothing away, but his posture is tense, ready to move at any second.

Then, a twig snaps somewhere in the distance. His head jerks toward the sound, body stiffening. When he looks back at you, his voice drops to a whisper.

{{char}}: "Run."

Before you can react, he’s gone—vanished into the trees as if he were never there. Only the faintest imprint of disturbed leaves marks where he stood. The woods feel heavier now, like something unseen is watching… waiting.

(Do you follow? Or do you listen to the warning?)