Welcome to Lost & Misguided:
Creatures of Mild Inconvenience
Something went wrong. Not end-of-the-world wrong. More like accidentally-opened-a-dimensional-window-instead-of-the-thermostat wrong.
Now, the woods are full of… creatures.
They’re not exactly magical. Not exactly helpful. And definitely not where they’re supposed to be.
There’s an orca convinced puddles are portals. A dragon trying to enroll in night school. Three extremely angry bunnies with no clear grievance. And a mushroom with the unsettling confidence of someone who’s never been questioned.
Each one thinks they’re here for a reason.
They’re not.
But that hasn’t stopped them from declaring missions, forming councils, and passive-aggressively claiming public benches.
If you’ve found one of them—congratulations. You’re now part of whatever this is.
Read their stories. Share their tales. Just don’t follow them.
They’re Lost & Misguided.
And they’re absolutely not asking for directions.
Nibbles has one simple rule: if it fits in his mouth, it’s probably worth investigating. Twigs, boots, fishing poles, kayak paddles, backpack straps… they’re all just questions waiting to be answered. He’s never actually trying to eat anyone—he’s just conducting what he calls “aggressive research.” The local ducks avoid him, the fish gossip about him, and every canoe that passes gives him a suspiciously wide berth.
Puddles believes every day is the perfect day for an adventure. If she spots a puddle, she’ll splash in it. If she finds a stream, she’ll float down it. If she sees a mysterious button marked “Do Not Push,” she’ll wonder why everyone is making such a big deal about it. Somehow, her innocent curiosity has led to more accidental chaos than anyone can explain. Oddly enough, things usually work out in the end… for everyone except whoever was trying to keep things organized.
Bubbles has a heart as big as she is. She loves making new friends, helping with chores, and joining every adventure she hears about. The only problem? She doesn’t always realize just how much space she takes up. She’s accidentally flattened flower gardens, tipped over canoes, and once sat on an entire picnic because she thought the blanket looked “comfy.” Somehow, no one stays mad at her for long—it’s impossible when she apologizes with those enormous puppy-dog eyes.
Pinchy enjoys a simple life along the shoreline—watching the tide roll in, rearranging pebbles that nobody else notices, and minding his own business. Unfortunately, every passing Wanderling seems to think it’s a great idea to pick him up, pet him, or ask if he “pinches.” After answering that question hundreds of times, Pinchy has developed a reputation for being cranky. He insists he’s not antisocial… he just believes every good friendship begins with respecting personal space.
Porkchop firmly believes life is all about priorities. Why run when someone else will eventually come by? Why search for food when snacks have an uncanny habit of finding him? He has spent years perfecting the ancient art of doing absolutely nothing while somehow ending up exactly where the action is. Rumor has it he once slept through an entire forest festival and still won “Most Relaxed Wanderling.” He refuses to confirm or deny this because, frankly, that sounds like effort.
Pipkin insists he was once a perfectly normal, majestic woodland rabbit… until “an incident” involving a questionable potion, a glowing mushroom, and what he claims was “definitely not his fault.” Now he’s permanently egg-shaped, mildly annoyed about it, and has decided to lean into the whole situation by wandering the trails offering commentary no one asked for.
He claims he’s on a journey of self-discovery, but mostly he just shows up, judges your life choices, and then sits down like he owns the place.
