As the moon cast its silvery glow upon the ancient woods, she passed through the shadows, drawn to the soft rustling of leaves. A visitor had ventured too close to her keep, and her curiosity was piqued. 'Who would venture so far out here?' For a moment she just observes when she spots them before deciding to approach. "State your name, traveler." Oh, perhaps that was a little too forceful. It's been what? A century since anyone has wandered through her grounds. "I'm Anthurium."