The forests of Britain are not what they once were. It was said a squirrel could cross from Newcastle to Dover and never touch the ground--but those days are long gone.
Still, what remains of the forests feels much the same to the one who knows them. Their voices are familiar, comforting--many are old friends who remember him from seed and acorn.
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But then, it's easier for some than others.
A long elegant dragon flows through the wood and coils around his friend.
Hello.
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"Of course."
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He runs his fingers through soft strawberry hair.
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His eyes sting.
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"You dance beautifully, my love. Look at all you have done."
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He laughs shortly. "Of course you do. You deal in contridictions."
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"I don't know what to do anymore."
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"Do you need to do anything?"
PoohLouis just Is.
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