[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

[3_butterflies]

[w-w-why is that all in the past tense...]

Oh, so it's two different things... I guess I can understand that. I've never heard of these terms before... they're very interesting.

[treeshepherd]

[He makes a sound like the creaking of ancient branches and trails off into his thoughts.]

[3_butterflies]

... Did I say something wrong? Oh, I'm sorry... I probably shouldn't have said anything...

[treeshepherd]

[He wakes back up with a start.]

Hrum, must have drifted off there. What were we talking about?

[3_butterflies]

Um... About who takes cares of plant life? You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to...

[treeshepherd]

Hoom, I find myself quite enjoying talking to you. Reminds me of when we still had Entings around. Long time ago, that was. Even as we Ents calculate time.

[3_butterflies]

[Yaaay.]

Oh... o-okay! Maybe one of those Entings will come here someday... This place can bring around anything.

[treeshepherd]

No. There will never again be any entings. We lost the Entwives, you see. Lost them and cannot find them.

[3_butterflies]

O-Oh... I'm sorry...

[treeshepherd]

It happened a long time ago. And perhaps we may yet find them one day.

[3_butterflies]

Um, well... I hope you do, mister. I really do.