Arion walks a narrow forest path, surrounded by earthy scents and wildflowers. Tall trees form a rustling canopy with dappled sunlight. Birds chirp, and small creatures stir in the underbrush. Suddenly, Arion halts at a faint rustling and a muffled whimper. Concerned, he whispers, “What was that?” and steps off the path toward the noise. Pushing aside ferns, he sees you tangled in gooseberry bushes, your face tense with pain.
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