The strange, overly armed man in the gray cloak rides out of view and watch him go. Soon you are alone on the dirt road once again and you take a good look around. The forest is very green. The trees are tall and healthy, the underbrush is thick and undisturbed, and the stones are covered with moss. The road is a simple, packed dirt affair. It feels like a national park but something feels off. As you look closer you realize the dirt road you're standing on is covered in hoof prints and the ruts formed by wheels don't have any marks from rubber tread. The underbrush of the forest is too clean, too natural. The forest floor only has decaying leaved, not a cigarette butt or gum wrapper in sight. Worried, you pull out your self phone to get a GPS location.

There is no service.

You're a long way from home and you're not going to find it here. Where do you go?


Into the forest.

Follow the guy.

Go the way he came from.