Just when you thought your trek through the forest was going to be boring and uneventful, your ears perk up at the sound of a twig being broken somewhere ahead of you. You blink, and in that instant, a satyr stands before you. He is holding a gnarled branch of some sort, perhaps a weapon? He eyes you quizzically, looking you over without saying a word.

> [G]reet, [F]ight, [R]un, F[L]irt >> _


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Toru is mine