Deep In The Forest Quotes

“The Forest is dark, dearie, The Forest is dark;
The moment you think that you’re lost in the woods, then you are.

Do not lose your way, dearie, Do not lose your way;
The monsters are lurking not far from the path should you stray.

Things aren’t what they seem, dearie, Things aren’t what they seem;
Kind grins are bared teeth; Please don’t answer the calls from the trees.

Do not pay them heed, dearie, Do not pay them heed;
Hear footsteps behind you, beware but don’t fret, they’re just checking.

The air is alive, dearie, The air is alive;
To help and to hinder, but it’s how some learned to survive.

These woods are too old, dearie, These woods are too old;
Watch for crimson wraiths, keep your strength and wits close should you go.

Deep in the Forest.”
― Emory R. Frie

“She finally understood why the monsters in the Forest always seemed to smile. Beasts only bared their teeth as a warning before they attack.”
― Emory R. Frie, Enchanted Forest

“Past the woodshed, past the creek that ran behind our inn, deep in the wild heart of the forest, was a circle of alder trees we called the Goblin Grove. The trees grew in such a way as to suggest twisted arms and monstrous limbs frozen in an eternal dance, and Constanze liked to tell us that the trees had once been humans- naughty young women- who displeased Der Erlkönig. As children we had played here, Josef and me, played and sang and danced, offering our music to the Lord of Mischief. The Goblin King was the silhouette around which my music was composed, and the Goblin Grove was the place my shadows came to life.
I spied a scarlet shape in the woods ahead of me. Käthe in my cloak, walking to my sacred space. An irrational, petty slash of irritation cut through my dread and unease. The Goblin Grove was my haunt, my refuge, my sanctuary. Why must she take everything that was mine? My sister had a gift for turning the extraordinary into the ordinary. Unlike my brother and me- who lived in the ether of magic and music- Käthe lived in the world of the real, the tangible, the mundane. Unlike us, she never had faith.”
― S. Jae-Jones, Wintersong