He's just a young thing, a buck still adjusting to the new weight of his antlers. Cute, she thinks, and smiles a little brighter.

"Not at all," she reassures him, glancing up at the leaves above them. The forest is her own. Roesia lives in her, partakes of her gifts and offers to her. Others use her and do not know what it is they do - it is why they don't go in too deep, she thinks.

"They grow where they wish - not bound by fences or carefully plotted land. Can you truly own something like that?"