Tallwood

Tallwood is a strange place, and exactly as you would think, everything is really big. After a few minutes of walking, you’ll find yourself strolling into the roots and under the ferns. Only the grass remains as it should – if not, I’d think we were shrinking, rather than the forest growing.

Being this small must be hard. Even just getting around is a struggle. One fallen leaf could swamp you, one dropped seed or nut or fruit could be really dangerous, and the bees? I don’t even wanna think about the bees.

It rains a lot, too, plop-plopping down the huge leaves like the beating of a drum. The forest provides many umbrellas.

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