"I am Amonalda, Warden of this forest," he replied. "The plants grow bolder when paths are forgotten." Spying the key that the satyr fiddled with, Amonalda's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Although he had never seen a Key, the Key could not be mistaken. "A heavy key for a heavy door, and heavy doors kept out heavy rains," he murmured remembering the less savory stories of the Other World's dwellers. "What brings you here, Simon, Son of Darius, Keeper of the Key? I knew not that others bore a Key." He dismounted from his perch fluidly, crunching no grass where he landed.