Forest

Twigs snap beneath your hurried feet. Your pace slows after a few hundred feet of running and you stop to take in a much need breath of fresh air. Yet, to your dismay the air is anything but fresh. The air feels and tastes as though it has been re-circulating through the same cramped space for years.

When you have regained normal breathing, you take a look at your surroundings. Depsite the dank smell, the scenery around you take you a-back. The trees feel as though they are antiques. Yet, instead of gathering dust, they have been collecting wisdom from all they have seen and experienced in the years past.

Your eyes begin to adjust more to the dark shadows. Something in the shrubs to your right catches your eye. You lean over and take a closer look. Though covered by leaves and moss, you are able to make out a small hole. You pull back some of the moist coverings, leaving enough space for you to drop into the hole.
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