[Dictated]

[treeshepherd]

  [There is a sound halfway between the creak of ancient wood and a sigh.]

Hrooom.

The trees are young, here.  They sing to me, but they do not know much of this world.  Hoom, they remind me of groves I knew long ago.  Ah, the willows of Tasarinan in the Spring.  They were lovely when I walked among them.

Hm, but this is no time for an old Ent's memories.  Come.  Tell me what news you have of this world.

Comments

dictated!!

[amiable]

The trees... are singing to you? [ Took this literally YEP. ]

[treeshepherd]

Every tree has it's own voice.

dictated!

[notjamesbond]

...

Are you like some treehugger or something?

[NEWT WHAT ARE YOU DOING]

Re: dictated!

[treeshepherd]

[He answers in a very slow voice, as if he were carefully measuring each word before he used it.]

I so not hug trees. I am an Ent. A shepherd of the trees.

[heal_theworld]

[She literally goes outside into the courtyard and listens, trying to hear what this man- Ent? -hears.]

Your hearing must be better than mine, because I can't hear anything. Maybe they like you more than they do us?

[treeshepherd]

Some trees can be quite talkative. But very, very few people ever listen. Too hasty.

[waterproofed]

What's an Ent?

[treeshepherd]

An Ent is what I am. And that is a shepherd of the trees.

dictated for now

[inafadingcrown]

[There's a long, long pause before she responds. It's like suddenly hearing a memory from times long past and she wasn't entirely prepared for it. Frankly, out of all the possible people who could arrive, Treebeard didn't even occur to her.]

So even the trees know little of this place. It does not surprise me. Welcome, Eldest. Though I know you would prefer to be elsewhere, I am glad to hear your voice once again. It has been long, indeed.

[treeshepherd]

Young Galadriel? [He greets her in a voice mixed with surprise and great respect.]

Long has it been since we met. By root and twig, this is a strange state of affairs.

dictated;

[3_butterflies]

The threes are very pretty here... I like a lot of the floral here... Do you like plants too...?

[treeshepherd]

Hrooom, you could say that. Yes, you could say that indeed!

Dictated;

[radiantwingedone]

'Ent'. Not Treant, Blooms, Paincorn, Limewreath or Deadwreath, for all sound similar in speech. [ Duke hasn't listened to the other speakers yet to realize he's not the only one who can hear the tree being speak. ]

[treeshepherd]

I have been called an Ent for a very, very long time.

[fishy_go_byebye]

Lots of cycles.

[treeshepherd]

Cycles?

Dictated for now

[lordofrivendell]

[This is, this is unexpected to say the least. The voice is, familiar, somewhat.]

I fear there is, little more to learn of this world than what you may learn through the trees. Though I welcome you here, none the less.

[treeshepherd]

Hoom, very curious. Very curious indeed. But a pleasant welcome, that is something.

dictated

[doublethefun]

I do not believe I have ever heard trees singing before.

dictated

[treeshepherd]

Most peoples are too hasty to hear them. The Elves began it, you know. Waking the trees up and speaking to them. Always wanted to talk to everything, the old Elves did.

Ah, but that was very long ago. Even as I count time.

dictated via journal

[laments]

[Well, isn't this interesting?]

And what do you know of the wood?

dictated via journal

[treeshepherd]

Only what the trees have to say, and bless their bark, but they are young things. Barely awake.

[hulloeverything]

The trees, hmm? Can't say I've spoken to one in quite a couple of centuries.

What would you like to know?

[treeshepherd]

[He makes a pleased rumbling sound.] There are not many who take the time to speak to the trees.

What news of this world do you have?

[noblefive]

Trees speak?

[He's surprised? Silly Jorge. He should know better]

...Uh, d'you know if they mind being leaned against?

[Considering that's what he's doing right now]

[treeshepherd]

[That tree? It's looking back at you.]

[heloise]

Of what matters do the trees sing?

[treeshepherd]

Of sunlight and water and the seasons.

[cheerupemoborg]

News? In this place? That'd be a welcome change...

[treeshepherd]

Hroom, it is a sad day when there is no news to be had.

[technohap]

[If only Henry could. But if the strange newcomer could hear the trees, maybe he could understand the growling Henry currently used as communication.]

[treeshepherd]

[He can't, but he peers at the strange creature with interest.]

Action

[wizard_redfive]

[Dairine has been stuck in a green velvet gown all weekend. By now she’s somewhat used to it, though having people stare at her is still annoying. So Dairine has been trying to avoid others, a much harder task with her room off limits. Still, it’s not impossible to get some time alone. For example, right now Dairine is taking a walk outside, using a shield spell to keep herself warm. (Stupid short-sleeved dress.)

When she hears another voice in the forest, her first instinct is to leave before they see her. But they sound new. Ahh… what to do…

Oh, whatever. Her dignity can sod off.]

That doesn’t surprise me. Few people know much about this place.

Action

[treeshepherd]

[There is a long sigh like the rustling of leaves.]

Very hasty to make a decision like that. There is knowing and then there is knowing, you understand.

[flailingfelt]

News? ... Well, not too much has happened lately, I guess. [Kermit pipes up] Did you just get here?

[treeshepherd]

Very recently, Very recently indeed.

[detectivegenius]

[Hmm. Creaking of wood. Talking about trees singing to you. An old sounding voice. This looks possibly interesting. He's never heard of a place called Tasarinan in his world either.]

Would you mind if I asked what an Ent is...?

[treeshepherd]

Hroom. An Ent is what I am. And that is a shepherd of the trees.

[action?]

[knightprodigy]

[Walking Paradisa's perimeter got annoying from time to time, especially when he was used to swinging and jumping from rooftop to rooftop (he really needs to see about getting his gilder or the batcycle back up and running again), but Dick has always liked the feeling of grass underfoot and bark beneath his fingertips. It reminds him that although he is trapped here (yet again), Paradisa is not all bad (unless of course he thinks back to the time of the blood-tree, but the less he tries to remember of that the better).

It's usually quiet out here, the odd sighting of Paradisa's indigenous wildlife aside, so as soon as he hears that booming, echo-y voice, Batman drops into a crouch and seeks cover behind a large tree trunk, trying to locate the source.]

[action!]

[treeshepherd]

[After finishing his post through the strange journal Treebeard makes his way back through forest in long effortless strides. This was not his forest. It was young and half-asleep still. But it was still a forest. And he was a shepherd. There was tending to be done.]