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The trees are talking. At least that's what it sounded like to Rin, he could hear the birds tweeting, and the rustling of leaves replying. He imagined deep and long conversations happening between all the creatures of the forest and the trees of old.

Thousands of years the trees have been here, in the densely packed forest, had they eyes, they would've seen lots of people, elves, dwarves and even shades come through from near and far.

Rin had never travelled so far out from his village, in fact this forest was forbidden. He didn't see why, not really, yes it was dangerous, but so was everywhere if you looked hard enough. All you had to do was keep your wits about you and you would be fine. Not to mention Rin's secret.

Rin was wandering aimlessly, however he had been marking his route with his hunting knife, he felt bad every time he scratched into the old trees but knew it was a necessity so he didn't get lost. He walked, he ran, he jumped over small trenches and slid under low hanging branches, he climbed over roots bigger than his mud hut house, and he was having the time of his life.

I could live here. He thought, shortly followed by; I would get lost here. And then immediately followed by; I am lost.

He'd done it again, lost in his thoughts, thinking about trees, elves, humans, shades, the war, almost anything apart from where he was going. Slowly, he turned 360 degrees, he thought everywhere around him looked similar, he didn't recognise anything, and yet recognised everything, he was utterly lost. He barked out a short laugh, and looked for his footprints, after a few seconds, he found them, the small indents he'd left behind. He now knew the rough direction he'd come from. He stared in that direction, picking up on small things he'd be able to recognise coming back this way, a broken branch halfway up a tree, a knot in a tree trunk that looked remarkably like a chicken.

Rin figured if he walked in a straight line from here, he could just turn around and come back this way and he would be fine. Unfortunately, despite his best intentions, Rin's brain tended to wander as he did, aimlessly. He would jump from thought to thought, and go down mental rabbit holes, losing himself, suddenly he'd ‘wake up’ and realise he wasn't where he thought he had been, or he didn't recognise where he was, and no matter how hard he tried, he could never stay on track.

He started walking away from the chicken tree and came across an enormous tree not two minutes later. He lay his hand on the tree and walked around its base, counting his steps. He got to 33, and then realised he didn't mark his start point, thinking he must have made it around at least once already, he gripped the handle of his knife again and pulled it free of its thigh strap, placed a hand on the tree, and spoke quietly;