The Wildman

A gentle breeze carries us through a wood of spruce and oak. We make good time, following the path as we can, forging our own when forced.

As dusk approaches, we spy a strange scene through the trees. Between the bushes lies tattered clothes and packs, not unlike our own. Some party long before us clearly passed this way, only to discard their possessions among the bracken. Perhaps the Wood drove them mad. Or perhaps… this was their choice.

As we gaze at the abandoned detritus, we feel a strange urge come over us. We, too, could be as these people were — free of care, one with the Wood. Only first, we must follow their example, and cast off our belongings.