The Sentinels If forests could talk, what would they say?

She wasn't settled; he could feel it. Then again, he'd never been any sort of therapist. He didn't have the words to make her feel better, and so he remained silent along with her until she spoke again.

Which. . .huh. Two chatterboxes, and moments of quiet between them. Who'da thunk it?

Nah, I feel 'em here, Vercingetorix replied, casting his head to look all around. Their spirits. At least some of them. Maybe some of them went elsewhere, though.

He cocked his head, curious as to her thoughts— The great forests where I grew up—I walk through them again now. Maybe they're the same trees. Maybe they're these trees. But I definitely feel energy here.

It was hard to tell. Whatever. Science and philosophy could go kick rocks.

How long are you gonna stick around down here?

He didn't mean the forest, specifically.