Greetings, friends. Bjorn here. Today, I sought to prove my worth by harvesting timber in Britain's North Forest. The forest, it seems, had other plans. I believe I spent the entire day walking in a very determined circle. I would stride confidently toward the treeline, only to find myself... elsewhere. Upon finally confronting a worthy-looking oak, my axe would bounce off as if the wood were iron! This happened more times than my pride cares to count. I am beginning to suspect the trees are mocking me. Tomorrow, I shall try a different forest. Or perhaps take up fishing.
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