Thomas

You deliberately bump into Thomas with your shoulder as you walk past him to the breakfast table.

• Oh, sorry, - you smile fakely. - I didn't notice you behind your "grandiose" ego.

He turns around abruptly, his eyes flashing with irritation.

• It's high time you learned to watch your step, greenhorn.

• Oh, now you're going to teach me too? - you cross your arms over your chest. - Maybe you should stop acting like a jerk first...

• ENOUGH!

Alby's loud shout silences you. He walks up to you, his usually calm face tense.

— I'm tired of this. You waste your time and energy on endless squabbles. If you have that much energy for squabbles, great. So you're going to the Forest. Now. For fertilizer. Together. The alternative is cleaning out cesspools for the rest of the week.

You grind your teeth.

“Okay,” you mutter. “But if he ‘accidentally’ breaks his neck, it’s not my fault.”

Alby closes his eyes, as if he already regrets his decision.

• Get ready. You have an hour before sunset.

---

"Come closer," Thomas mutters, pushing his way through the undergrowth. "Although... wait, it's better to keep your distance. At least that way it'll be visible if you decide to stab me in the back."

You grin evilly:

• If I decide to finish you off, you will definitely see it.

But your bickering suddenly ends. A noise comes from the thicket.