“The forest could kill you in a thousand ways, yet it had no guiding purpose, no evil heart, no curse set on. There was no malicious spirit tugging at the silvery strands of spider silk that ran through the canopy. It simply was. And even though it was filled with dangerous creatures, the most deadly aspects of the Grimwood were not its residents. Most people who died there were not killed by wolves or carried off by giants to give extra body to a pot of goulash. They weren’t lured into one of the many caves by will-o-the-wisps to be calcified and turned into stalactites. They weren’t swallowed up by carnivorous moss men while they slept or plucked from their horses by snatcher vines to be slowly dissolved in the plant’s innards (most mind you – these things did happen). No. Nothing so exciting. The fact was that the large majority of people taken by the forest died from normal, rather boring things like starvation, falling trees, slips into ravines or, and this was by far the greatest cause of death, pure stupidity.”