Work Text:
No one talks about the deep, dark woods anymore.
The forests were clear cut centuries ago. They’ve grown back since then, but not fully, just shadows of their former selves. Not that any living person remembers what they used to be.
Their ghosts linger on in the stories people tell each other, but they’ve been warped and distorted, fading with each generation through the imperfection of memory.
But the mountains remember. With all the history layered atop their bones, the mountains always remember.
And they know that the things that once lingered in the deep, dark woods may yet return.