Shadow in the Forest

Scrawled, in Quenya, in a small shabby journal that is falling to bits...

I came across some men in the forest. I did not expect to see anyone in here, but neither did they. They looked for the oldest willow tree in the forest, to get some bark to save the life of a halfing girl. I decided to help guide them - I may come across what I seek too. We wait now for some of the group to return - they went off ahead and those I found don't want to move without them. One of them profoundly refuses to accept that natural world, that the trees do not move or listen, that they do not feel anger at us. He is the most difficult to talk to out of all of them. He sits now, writing in his own journal. He just tore out a page. I shall not intrude and ask why, for it will lead to more difficult conversations. I hope they decide to move soon, I hear the trees speak to each other, angry at our lingering presence.