"Pika Shimon Capela!" Casey bounces over to you, hand outstretched to present a folded piece of paper. "This is for you!" Sure enough, it has your name on the outside, printed in big, round letters in handwriting you don't recognize. "I didn't read it!" Casey says preemptively. "It was in your mailbox!"
You unfold it and see more of that same unfamiliar handwriting.
Come meet me this afternoon around 4. Follow the trail to the south, and I'll meet you there.
—Lianna
Okay. Time to find out more.
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