Bri, an innocent, and niave little girl jogged in her appealing exercise garb by the edge of the forest she had lived by allmost all her life. As she past the spindly black trees gave a whistle of the winds. Each tree unremarkable from the other, except on tree, it stood on two thin trunks which met into a large mass, its branches extended like spinners legs. It had been there for a while, amungst the autumn trees, so the leaves had gathered on its thin mass. But as Bri-beatuiful Bri-passed by it. It turned to admire her.