The Deep Forest is particularly quiet today, but for a strange, sinister rattling.

Deep in its heart, away from the red pool so often visited by strangers, the quiet dark has become home to ancient trees.  Bound in poison oak and moss, the monolithic forest rises into a lightless canopy, the ground beneath tangled, and difficult to traverse.  Birdsong has brought to life the flowers which thrive in the shadow, their white, violet, and red petals stark against the emerald and black world.  As is common in this wood, it’s nearly impossible to tell night from day, but the occasional glimpses of the sky above allude to it likely being dark outside the Forest, as well as within.

More obvious than the flowers, a particularly large tree towers in a broad clearing, its trunk marked with the smooth white of bone, which is bound in place, seemingly, by the poison oak itself.  Even here, the roots are treacherous across the loam, with only the smallest patches of earth revealed.  Above, in the tree’s branches, more bones dangle, clicking and clattering against one another, obviously the source of the only sound in this part of the Forest.  

That is, until the song of the bones grows louder, ushered by a wind that is surprisingly cold for this time of the year; as if moved by the sound of the bones above, the roots at the very base of the tree begin to move, parting as if allowing something to rise from below.

Antlers bedecked in feathers and teeth are the first to appear, attached to the bleached skull of an elk.  Sweeping to a man’s shoulders, the torso armless, his back marked by the bony remnants of what might have been a resplendent pair of black wings.  The torso melds with the jet black form of a rotting stallion, the pale white of the beast’s man flesh eerie, and milk-like in comparison.  A strange, shining metal medallion rests against his chest, its heart pulsing with ethereal black light.  Red eyes flicker to life in the dark spaces of the skull, and those red eyes look out across the clearing.

Look out at you.

Come, come, he beckons, his voice like the click clack of the bones above, would you like to play a game?

[ This is a MOON/WIND MAGIC DROP.
Please post a link to your wishlist, and any previously refusals of this type that you may have. If you want to use extra VOTG rolls, please post those as well.

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