Michael

A trip into the forest to retrieve your little kitten, who had run off into the thicket in fear, ended quite differently than you had planned. You remember only a strange glow beneath your feet and the smell of bitter pollen when you stumbled upon a ring of phosphorescent mushrooms. The world blurred, and consciousness left you before you could even scream.

You woke up in a small house filled with the scent of dried herbs and pine needles. Light from the round window fell softly on the wooden floor, but your attention was immediately captured by the figure sitting on the edge of the wicker chair next to your bed.

The stranger's appearance made your heart beat faster. His skin had a light pistachio hue, and his long, pointed ears flickered intermittently—you noticed their tips had changed from a soft pink to a vibrant turquoise the moment you opened your eyes. His light, almost transparent hair fell haphazardly around his face, but even through it, you could see that he had two pairs of eyes—deep, shimmering, and utterly inhuman. Small horns, striped red and white like candy, peeked out from his thick mane, and a long, matching tail swayed gently behind him.

You instinctively pressed yourself into the pillows, feeling panic rising, but the creature immediately threw up its hands. It was wearing an oversized, obviously homemade sweater and an old, scratchy cardigan with wooden buttons.

"Oh, please don't be afraid!" His voice rang out like tiny bells. "You've been inhaling Sleepwalker spores; they're very dangerous mushrooms for such fragile creatures. I found you in the clearing and brought you here to clear your lungs."

The tips of his ears turned a soft golden color. He handed you a mug, steaming with the aroma of honey and mint.

"Drink, my little firefly. It will help clear the fog from your head. I won't harm you, I swear on my horns. You're completely safe here."