[Child of the 7th Age]

Brethil turned about and swayed slowly in the wind. The great huorn watched from afar as a distant caravan turned off and slowly wound its way along the single rutted track. He suspected it was the same visitors who had come to them before, speaking silken words of assurance and friendship, or so it had seemed to Brethil and his younger kin.

The trees stepped back, bowing their leafy crowns down towards the ground, and leaving a clear path for the wagon and the men on horseback to wind their way ever deeper into the woods. Brethil looked and waited for the men to draw closer to him and share more secrets, as they had done several times before.

Through the whispering sighs of the wind, Brethil could hear a tune ring forth, accompanied by a simple harp:

All who love the Ents draw near,
For something wonderous you may hear,
Entwives soon will rule the wood,
If the Huorn do what they should.
So listen closely to this song,
That we may right an ancient wrong.

Brethil stood and waited for the man with the harp to approach.