Spruce's Origin

Spruce has amnesia.

Spruce woke up, and found themselves alone in a forest clearing. They had no memory how they had gotten there- well, actually, no memory at all. They blinked, realizing they had no idea who they were, where they were, or what they had been doing. They looked around and had nothing, besides a stick in their hand, a pocket knife in their back pocket and an envelope in their front pocket. They opened the envelope to find a letter:

To you, You won't remember writing this, or what happened. That's okay. It's for the best, believe me. Listen. You have to get your shit together. You are not safe, and you will never be safe again. Do not lose that twig. It is the most important thing in your entire life. The seer told us that, along with the rest of these events, and we should've just believed him. Sorry that we had to go this path- trust me, it wasn't ideal, but it was by far the safest option. Good luck, and don't leave the woods. From you, Spruce

That's all they had. At least they knew their name now- Spruce. They got up, putting the envelope away, and looked around. The forest was bleak, and dense. There were trees surrounding them, and the ground was covered in leaves. They started walking- what else were they supposed to do? Their ears twitched, listening to every stick snap and leaf crunch under their thick hiking boots. The stick in their hand felt correct- it fit perfectly into the palm of their hand, and was the right size they could use it as a weapon, if it came down to it. The new environment and amnesia made their surroundings feel odd, and put them on edge. At least it was a nice day out- their shirt didn't feel like it'd do a great job of keeping them warm. They walked downhill, and were able to find a stream, sitting by it and contemplating their options. They picked up their knife and examined it. It was rather tacky looking, and didn't seem like it'd be much of a help in anything besides maybe prepping food, which would be a problem soon, along with the looming dusk. They watched on the bank as the sun slowly set, carving the soil with their flimsy knife. The moon quickly took over, flooding the land with shadows and doubt. They got up, and started to try to find a place to rest for the night- who knows what could be in these woods. Their flames lit a dull glow over the landscape, allowing them to walk without tripping too much. After walking for what felt like hours, they saw a light in the distance, and decided to approach it. As they got closer, it became apparent it was a very small cabin, with a singular room and several pots out front. They peeked into the window next to the door to see a tall, anxious looking person reading a book in a chair, their lap and legs covered by a blanket. He had curly, brown hair and big deer-like ears, with a cardigan on. One wall was covered in bookshelves, bursting with literature, while a bed was pushed against another. There was a small wood stove with a kettle on it next to the bed, and another area covered in baskets. They watched the odd person read his book, wondering what it could be about, as they suddenly had a fly go into their agape mouth. Caught off guard, Spruce began coughing and choking on the bug, as he looked through the window and saw the man suddenly bolt up, startled, as the sound outside of his window continued. He went to the door to see the commotion as Spruce tried to get up, but then they slipped on the muddy ground, falling and hurting their ankle. "How embarrassing", they thought, "that my end will be to this thing outside of a random guy’s house". The bookworm opened the door with a lantern, looking down at Spruce with a mix of confusion and panic. Spruce looked back with the same emotions as he realized this guy had deer-like legs, too, covered in a mushroom pattern. The man loomed over Spruce, and finally mustered the courage to talk to him. "Who are you? Why are you outside of my home at a time like this? It’s the middle of the night, for heaven's sake!" Spruce looked at him, worried and agape, thinking of any possible excuse they could muster. "W-well, you see, I don't really know what I'm doing or where I am, even, and your cabin was the first light I saw, I'm terribly sorry, I can be on my way now", they managed to spit out. It was a rather terrible excuse. The satyr looked down at him, with less panic and more confusion. "What, you're telling me you really don't know where you are and you just showed up here? That's rather silly" said the man, as he leaned to offer his hand to help Spruce up. Spruce's face flushed as they managed to stand up with his help, flinching with the weight on their ankle. "Well, it wasn't my choi- ok, maybe it was, but I don't remember it, so I didn't want this!" The man looked down at him, standing several inches higher thanks to his hooves. Spruce gripped their stick. "Well, it's getting cold out, and you don't look especially prepared- would you want to just come in, have some tea, and sit with me?" Spruce nodded, and followed him in. "What's your name, anyways?" "It's Spruce- or, at least I think it is" "Spruce, huh? That's a rather nice type of tree." Spruce thought that was a stupid comment for someone to make. "What's your name?" "Oh, mine is Twig, which is, arguably, much less cool." Twig said. Twig put the kettle on as Spruce sat down on their floor, and slowly fell asleep as they waited, putting all their trust into this stranger.