World's Angriest Feral Sweater Child

Several masked and leather-aproned court alchemists using iron tongs to remove a live and undamaged mouse from the mystical solar kiln

One strikes it with a small silver hammer. It rings out with red sparks and a pure resonant tone, signifying it's alchemical perfection. It sniffs at the air.

What, the forest-dwelling entities with imperfect human mimicry who insinuate themselves into groups of hikers? Yeah, we had one of those. Clocked it immediately, of course. Honestly it kind of fell in that so-inept-it's-kind-of-charming range. We just played along until it'd had it's fill of marshmallows and shambled back into the treeline. We might have been violating some kind of killjoy wildlife contact best practices but what the hell, can't plan around every little thing. Why, what happened to you guys