Hushed Willows well, it's literally not that

The collection of willows was something Rose had only seen in passing once, but their aesthetic beauty in fall had drawn her in for a closer inspection today. The shroud of golden leaves that hung above her danced in the wind that trickled between branches and, like a young child, the russet kru found herself in awe of the simple artistry.

The place reminded her fondly of the glade she had been born in, if only because of the vibrant colors that dug up old memories. Rose was so involved in her own past that she barely took notice to what was happening in the present, which included not noticing the raven girl that stood out like a sore thumb in the distance.