Nemeton. A Mountain Sanctuary, of healing and gratitude. You had heard rumors of this magical place for many years, but never imagined that you would finally be able to make the pilgrimage. In snow and sleet none the less, but who turns down this kind of invitation.
Mountain folk rarely come off the mountain, for they are busy tending the Groves; living and sharing in the Harmony with the world around them. So to glimpse into the reality of such a mysterious and fantastical people is considered an honor as well as a little crazy.
You slowly walk your way up the mountain trail and it seems like an effort to just put one foot in front of the other in this snow. Is gravity different here or is the trek just finally catching up with you?
Other small tracks litter the snowy ground. Deer, racoon, rabbit, and what seems to be the tracks of a large canine. Hmmm…. Dire wolves were once known in these parts, and your mind begins to race with worst case scenarios.
Ahead you see a small clearing, and in it a tiny home covered in snow. At your feet you notice a ragged, frozen, and chewed up tennis ball. The snow makes everything quiet and out of nowhere a downpour of giant snowflakes begins to fall.
The tiny home disappears in a downpour of snow and you hear what sounds like trotting in the snow. You hear someone yell in the distance, “MOOOOSE!”
Ahead of you, you see something large and black charging through the snow, but can’t quite make out what it is. Could it be a moose charge of some kind? Do moose even exist here on this mountain? Were those moose tracks and not deer? What do you do?
A. Pick up the nasty, frozen, drool covered tennis ball as your only defense and stand your ground!
Nemeton 