Running down the staircase, I stumbled and tumbled to the bottom floor. Jumping across the threshhold, an osprey swooped at my face. The evil mage cast twenty magic missiles, and I dodged them all. Into the woods I ran, but a ram stared me down. Its horns swooped at my face. The osprey, my familiar, swooped at its face. It stumbled back.

Into the enclave I call home, clutching my prize, I dive. The earth swallows me whole. I take out the seeds. One of these is magic. I can plant them or eat them.

I fall asleep without deciding. I awake and decide! 

I act! 

I plant!

My friendly neighborhood goathog, which is like a hedgehog, but goatier. Gaultier, the goatier goathog, bends to eat them as I push them under the soil. My osprey swoops at his face. He meanders off to find a sunflower to nibble.

ONE HUNDRED YEARS LATER

I'm dead. People don't live that long, especially not when evil mages are looking for them.

TWIST!

My body feeds the plants.