The heart of Ravounel Forest is old but it still pumps sap with the turning of the years, and in that secret old heart there stands a grove.
(Ravounel, a forest proudly defiant in the face of Infernal Cheliax, a forest which lost not an inch of territory in the last century. Ravounel, pitiful remnant of the World Forest, cut off by the mountains and by Nidal and fighting a losing battle against the humans through all the millenia since -)
A grove in a forest is not an oxymoron. It is the druids' true home ground and the heard of their invested power, the closest the Green Faith ever comes to a divine domain. These trees are ancient, and they are bound and protected by rituals more ancient still, laid down by generations of arch-druids to be the snare and downfall of any who gaze upon them uninvited. And so they stand, towering and darkly majestic in their silence.
When the druids of Ravounel Forest meet to discuss the recent overthrow of Infernal Cheliax by several archwizards and the more-recent-still news of a constitutional convention they do it somewhere else, because they are not idiots.