@BellaTheCow, sorry but that was incorrect. I don't blame you though. I'd love to pet a bird if I could too 
As you extend your hand, the bird tilts its head but does not flee. Instead, it lets out a melodic call, and vines rise from the earth, wrapping gently around your wrist. A warmth spreads through you, but before you can react, the vines tighten—testing you, judging you—before retreating as if you were unworthy.
@vieveda, congrats! I'll do 5 more likes and comments on your story!
As your fingers trace the ancient symbols, the ground beneath you pulses with life, and the bird lets out a soft trill of approval. Vines bloom with glowing blue flowers, and a gentle voice whispers through the trees: The forest has chosen you. A wave of understanding washes over you—you are no longer just a traveler; you are its guardian now.
@Krysteena, sorry but that was incorrect! You did not become the guardian of the forest, but who knows if that's necessarily a bad thing? 
You step away, unwilling to involve yourself in something unknown, but the moment you turn, the forest shifts. The trees close in, their branches weaving a barrier, and the bird’s once-gentle song turns into a sorrowful cry. The choice was never yours to make—the forest has already decided.
