As you venture deeper, the forest seems to stretch out into an endless expanse. The familiar constraints of time and space begin to warp and distort. Is it the dead of night, or the crack of dawn? Is it the peak of summer or the heart of winter? Strangely, not knowing doesn’t bother you.

The trees around you whisper in echoes of unfamiliar words. Among the cryptic murmurings, you occasionally make out fragments languages known to you. You sense that these verses, alien yet intimate, are woven by the golden creature.

Compelled by the magic, you follow the whispers.

…Or, the echoes seem ominous to your ears. A chilling dread crawls up your spine, urging you to turn back. You look for the now barely noticeable path out of the woods.