While Alex is walking, pushing the red plants forward with his body, he, like a good bard, is humming an improvised song:
"In the Fields of Exile, the sky is blood red. Where shadows dance, and secrets hide. The be ast called Cu te, she resides here... In search of answers, we will follow."
Alex is smiling, but he stops and puts a hand to his chin.
"I don't know, I don't think it's good yet."
As he struggles to find the right words for the song, the environment around him begins to change without him noticing the small differences emerging, until they become quite large. The red sky gradually begins to darken, as if the black clouds were gathering, and the red plants that he has been pushing with his body are now writhing, shrinking in size.
