(In SAMM5’s point of view:) The sun shone down, a rare cloud obscuring the blue yonder. An occasional whistle came from above, small birds flitting from tree to tree. A soft flutter of a breeze caused my hair to move about. It was peaceful. That is, until the distant sound of boots crunching on leaves and twigs became audible. I activated my cloaking feature, standing up from the log I had been contemplating on just a moment before, and look around.
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