The forest breathes, it is a place that seemed alive, as if even the trees watch every movement through their twisted trunks and gnarled roots. The deeper into the wood one travels the more lost they become the trees seeming to shift the path that they took bringing them to a sense of utter seclusion and isolation. The forest floor is thick with tall ferns, the trunks twisted with moss and fungus, glowing insects dance about the darkness of the timeless wood. Birds flitter high above though only their songs give evidence of their presence. Darkness drapes the woods, deeper and deeper darkness the longer one travels within it its clutches. The scent of damp Earth and growing things permeates the woods then as the darkness ensnares the passers vision whispers are heard on the wind, the trees do not waver yet a breeze slides along the cheek with the sweet scent of lilac. The breeze is warm and silver leaves dance upon its front as they twist and slid through the trunks almost glittering in the few rays of sun that slid down from the thick bows high above.

From the corner of the passer’s eye one can see the dark form of a large man walking among the woods his fingers tracing over each tree as he steadily moves through the darkness. In one hand hold a long gnarled staff his form draped in green, he looks to be an aged druid though disappears as fast as one can follow. The whispers find the ear again though this time they carry a sweet note and bid thee welcome in a tongue that is foreign to all that hear it uttered accept one of distant worlds long forgotten.