A sound...<br/><br/>It was foreign. The stags did not leave a cracking sound in their wake unless they were in fear. The sparrows and even the more audacious jays were utterly silent. Even then very subtle hum of the insects had all but stilled completely. Someone was here perhaps by mistake. She felt his footfalls like low tremors in her spine and it dragged her grudgingly from her  restful state.<br/><br/>The being of many names: 'Hawthorne' after her woodland domicile, 'The Hidden One,' 'The Green Faerie' 'The Nature Spirit.' Cautious locals had come and gone and lived and died all around her. Not always would she claim them. They only needed to respect the paths laid out for them, and take absolutely nothing without permission. For safe passage through the home of what has become more spirit than living being, such rules were insignificant. A mysterious location such as these woods, of course, could not be what they were without the ever changing tales of their horrors, of her horrors. For they, she, the spirit of the woods, 'Green' most often called at that time, thrived on their whispers and weary glances in her direction.<br/><br/>Perhaps their most fatal mistake could be this: To address the spirit of that wildwood is to surrender to her madness. A crude post sign near an entrance warned of it.<br/><br/>It was more typical of Green to open one tired eye on the arrival of strangers only to promptly drift back back to a restful daze. It was said that when the trees seemed to lean in to watch as you passed, when the breeze seemed to come from directly above, the spirit was watching. But for this? No. For this, Green's lashes opened wide. Her breath stilled. She sensed a great power, and she remained silent. It had been quite sometime since such a being had braved the woods. She drew in a breath more out of remembering how to than needing to and she sank into the bark and the limbs of the most knotted tree, disappearing, becoming one with it, the very heart of the woods. The path traversed respectfully enough around it's reach. If the being knew what was good for it, powerful or not, it would continue to through in silence.