You follow Milosh through the soft rain, the druid’s bare feet squelching in the mud as he pads ahead, unbothered by the cold or wet.
"I don’t know what this is about either," he mutters to Will, without looking back at him,
"but I have ...theories"
He doesn’t elaborate.
You press on, and the day fades into twilight, and eventually, you are surrounded by darkness. The rain tapers to a mist when the clouds part, and the silvery light of the moon spills through the canopy.
There is a small clearing ahead of you, and this is where you meet her. An eleven woman with a cascade of red hair falling past her waist in tangled waves. Her clothes consist of nothing but leaves and moss and mud; clinging to her skin with sticky sap. It is clothing, in the loosest sense of the word, since it barely covers her body. By her side is a massive elk, bigger than a warhorse, which watches you directly as you step into the clearing. You are pretty sure there are other animals, too, nearby, maybe just beyond the edge of the forest; there is certainly some movement you can see. A rustle of leaves.
What do you do?

Milosh