The density of the forest is imposing. The thick trunks press in and the branches above hardly let a peep of sun through. The moss grows thick between the treeroots, vibrant greens and startched gray-yellows. Ivy creeps up, here and there overwhelming a mass of wood. You're not sure how long you've been walking. It was warm at the edge of the wood, but here a bluster of sharp wind bites through your mid-weight coat. The force of the gust dislodges your woolen beanie, and for a moment you're too stunned to stop it. When you turn, you see it tumbling away from you until it lodges in between two trunks. When you stoop down to pick it up, you notice soft light coming through the crack. As you kneel to get a better look, you notice dull strums of guitar drifting through as well.