Little Valley
You enter a tiny, lonesome place. Surrounding you stands many tall yellow-orange sun flowers, a few large red wild flowers with yellow and orange stamens and pistons protruding forth, and tall green grass spurts up, meeting the wild flowers. A slight, yet gentle, breeze moves the flowers in a swaying motion. The bright blue sky above your head holds a mighty radiating force, the sun. Its rays beat down on your back. To the west of you, dense forest trees stand behind the sun flowers. Through the flowers, a rough, weather-beaten, little path leads you to the forest.
The darkness of night surrounds you. You can hear the crickets chirping and see fireflies in the air.
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