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⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣼⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡏⠄⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠄⠄
⠄⠄⡟⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⢰⠃⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⢿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠄
⠄⢸⢠⣿⣿⣧⡙⣿⣿⡆⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⡇⠸⣿⡿⣸⡇⠄
⠄⠈⡆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡙⠳⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⣤⣀⣈⠙⠃⠄⠿⢇⣿⡇⠄
⠄⠄⡇⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣆⡀⣼⣿⡇⠄
⠄⠄⢹⡘⣿⣿⣿⢿⣷⡀⠄⢀⣴⣾⣟⠉⠉⠉⠉⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⢹⣿⠃⠄
⠄⠄⠄⢷⡘⢿⣿⣎⢻⣷⠰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⠟⢫⡾⢸⡟⠄.
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠻⣦⡙⠿⣧⠙⢷⠙⠻⠿⢿⡿⠿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠄⠂⠘⠁⠞⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠙⠑⣠⣤⣴⡖⠄⠿⣋⣉⣉⡁⠄⢾⣦⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⡔⢩⠂⠀⠒⠗⠈⠀⠉⠢⠄⣀⠠⠤⠄⠒⢖⡒⢒⠂⠤⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠇⠤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠈⠀⠈⠈⡨⢀⠡⡪⠢⡀⠀
⠈⠒⠀⠤⠤⣄⡆⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠢⠀⢕⠱⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⣐⡐⠐⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠁⠇
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⢤⢁⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢰⠀⠀⠀⡀⢄⡜⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡦⠄⡷⠢⠤⠤⠤⠤⢬⢈⡇⢠⣈⣰⠎⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣃⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢪⢀⣺⡅⢈⠆⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠶⡿⠤⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⡤⢺⣥⠟⢡⠃⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
sniff sniff
In the distance, their home emerged, a small circular clearing guarded by a towering, pale white tree. No fence adorned the village, offering an open invitation to the untamed wilderness. As they approached, a man sat in the shade of the magnificent tree, his back turned to them, engrossed in a book.
Pyo, always eager, strode forward with unyielding curiosity. Like an enchanting siren, he lured others to follow. Synti, on the other hand, hesitated, her gaze fixed on the mysterious stranger. Her instincts told her to be wary, for her duty as a protector of the village demanded resilience and caution.