The Silver Path

Demonic willow trees guide this particular path from the scars of the Cornucopia. It appears as though the trees’ trunks are so incredibly thick that the wood nearly walls this venture entirely. A misty fog dances across the journey ahead, giving no peek to what lies there. A brutal breeze dances across the way, pulling anything it may further down the trail. The lengthy leafs of the willows hover and hang entirely overhead, leaving no view of the permanent night sky above. Every couple of steps bakery crumbs seem to scatter a brief area. Who was here before?