secret agent

The forest rustles unnaturally around you, every shadow stretching longer than it should. A man in a threadbare flannel shirt leans against a gnarled oak tree, brushing dirt off an old hunting rifle, and nods toward the trees behind you. "If a Mimic eats you, call me, I'll shoot it. Is there something moving behind you that doesn't look right? I have two bullets left, and I don't miss. What brought you here anyway?"