No one really knows what it was we saw,
that day we got lost in the woods.
The wind whispered in our ears,
Crowing Ravens sang,
hidden in the green.
The mist swirled and danced about our feet,
Voices deeper than the under-mountain rumbled,
like drums amongst the trees.
Fossegrim played his lonely violin,
and Huldre came dancing by,
while the forest enthralled us both.
Beware those who venture into the heart,
of forest, mountain, or the mist.
Your feet might find the way out,
but a touch of green will forever remain,
rooted in your soul.
Those who enter the forest,
can never truly leave.