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The forest is serene this morning as you head out along the trails. Birds are singing and the weather is crisp, perfect for walking without breaking too much of a sweat. But as you come along a bend in the path, you believe you hear something in the underbrush. Your calloused, strong hand wraps around your Wooden Staff . You’re ready to defend yourself from any beast that you might find--relieved as a neighbor’s dog comes bounding out from a bush, instead.