Fangorn

The trees were so tall and menacing, the undergrowth so heavy and dark that they had been something of a hindrance even for the silver furred she-wolf, and her small ‘magic’. Threatening, foreboding, presenting a nigh impenetrable shield-wall against any ‘outsider’, there was such bitterness in the air, that even Isa had to think twice before continuing. 

"Why... oh why did this little bird had to die?.." rang like a bell in beorning's head. A bear that had been in so many battles and witnessed death pretty much every other day, was absolutely touched by such little and most likely unimportant to others event.

Rolling on the patch of nice smelling flowers and after the rain wet grass at Sweetmead was unexpectedly disturbed by rather stomping sounds of someone walking.

"Hurr....Hurr...."