“The tree must be ancient!” Esme breathed out in astonishment and circled it, her fingers daintily running over the coarse bark, and over an engraving on it. She squinted to see the marking, but little did it matter to her; the depths between the roots seemed as if they would provide ample shelter for her and Tara. There would be some protection from the wind, and some cover from those who might be searching for them.  “Tara,” Esme began and approached her.  “I think we have found our place to rest for the night. We can nestle together between the  large roots which will provide us some shelter, and it is rather quiet and serene. Unless you have objections, I think we camp here for the night. What do you think?” Esme asked, rather weary from the events of the day. Her body begged for rest, but if Tara was uncomfortable with the idea, she would move onwards, and deeper into the woods. She hoped, however, that it would not come to that.