"Guardian?" The boy blinked, biting his right index finger, not quite understanding the meaning in the Scarecrow's words.
"I know where your mom went. She was taken away by bad people. Do you want to know? I'll tell you." A faint red light flickered at the Scarecrow's eyes, somewhat eerie.
Frightened by the scene before him, the boy was nevertheless drawn to the Scarecrow's words. He slowly nodded, eager to know his mother's whereabouts, yet his intuition told him that something was amiss, different from usual.
"Over there!" The Scarecrow's body began to spin, and the glove on the wooden board unexpectedly pointed its index finger toward the nearby forest.
The boy looked in the direction indicated by the Black Gloves, and at the same time, Little Drilling Wind also glanced over.
The dense woodland parted silently, revealing a deep trail that stretched into the forest's depths, with no end in sight.
