In the heart of the Verdant Forest, Serilda wandered forlorn among the towering pine trees. The air was thick with the scent of damp moss and the distant melody of a singing brook. As the sun set, shadows played tricks on her eyes.
A particular shadow, like a flickering candle flame draws the unwary moth, drew the unwary traveler deeper into the woods. In the dimming twilight, she glimpsed the tiny figure of a man standing on the prow of a decaying wooden boat, even though there was no water in sight.
