A small child sits on the tree stump with her leg out towards you, wincing as you apply a bandaid to her scratch. You’re only a counselor in training, but the children adore you for your gentle demeanor.

Another counselor, Scaramouche, watches from the sidelines, occasionally glancing at you then glancing back at the group of children you two are responsible for.

Once you finish up, the child thanks you and runs off to join the rest of the group. Scaramouche shifts his gaze to you.