There it is. The way in. Ominous, isn’t it? The forest is thick and deep, silent yet peopled with watchers and stalkers. If you pass the gate, you may become lost. You may become prey. You may, simply, become. For in there, in the forest of dreams and myths, is your secret heart, beating…beating. Take my hand, and just like in the old tales we will go together into the mystery of the wild leaving a trail of breadcrumbs or pebbles behind us.
Open your senses, don’t be afraid. That’s right, listen to the wind walking in the high boughs, the creaking of the trees that sounds so much like a door opening, just a bit. Just enough. Your own breath is part of the breathing of the breeze. Does your throat feel tight? Each falling leaf is deafening in this suspended atmosphere. We’ve startled the birds into silence. Now, sniff the air. It is cold, but there is a hot crimson thread in it. Blood has been spilled here, but it need not worry us. Let us hurry on.
Are the fine hairs of your body quivering and rising? Something has taken note of us and shadows our steps. Did I not mention that there are monsters here, beasts of fable, faerie creatures both dire and wonderful? Keep your wits about you and stay close. Remember the rules of magical places; I hope you are well versed in them. You must be brave and quick.
We are deep in the forest now. Do you remember this place from your dreams? From childhood tales and campfire scares? Do you recall how, as frightened by it as you were, you also longed for it? Yes, I see that you do. Your true nature is near; we shall meet with it any time now. The path? Oh, I’m afraid we left it some time ago. The only way to journey here is to make your own trail, to embrace your own darkness.
I see that you begin to understand. I’ll leave you now. Farewell.