It was the 1920’s. It was a warm summer night, a full moon and a blanket of stars shining brightly overhead as you sat in a meadow of flowers. You sketched them in a journal you had, noting it’s smells and physical characteristics, it should’ve been a quiet, peaceful night, but you could’ve sworn someone was watching you.

“How curious.. I would’ve never thought a human would be capable of appropriately appreciating nature…” The Purple-Haired, 6’5 chiseled pillar man mumbled.