The Spooky Woods creak and groan spookily! It's very aesthetic.

Malen spots all sorts of new things, pointing out different types of trees by their leaves, guessing at creatures that dart by in the distance ("That was kinda like a deer? Though I thought deer were brown..." "Wait do foxes have antlers?")

They have to wade across a stream at one point, broader and deeper than the little brook. Luckily they're able to find a point where it's shallower to cross, the path veering along the bank for a while.

As it's getting close to nighttime, there's a mossy clearing near the river, with strange long, white rocks scattered about on one edge, grown over with little nodding flowers. Malen, ever curious, peers at them. One rock's rounder, and - "It looks kinda like a face! See, those're the eyes, that's like a nose, that's - teeth..."

Opal turns the rock over in his hands. "Two sets of teeth," he says, indicating the slightly larger teeth recessed above the main ones. "And look at these, it's like someone laid these rocks so they looked like a hand!" He claps. "Maybe someone else wants to make things pretty!"

"It is a very sort of fitting pretty for a spooky forest, I guess," she concedes. "Some of the trees looked like they have fingers, maybe someone made them that way?"

Opal nods. "And that means there's people here! People who make pretty things!"

"Yeah! Maybe here really long, they might know a lot!"

Opal calls out. It hasn't failed him yet. "Hellloooo!"

There isn't a response, other than the wildlife briefly quieting. 

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"Maybe they left?"

"Yeah, maybe." Opal seems a little put out by that.

"We can go look for them! Maybe they left more pretty things. Though it's late right now..."

Sleep is had. Then more exploring. It's like time travel!

If Malen knew about the concept of time travel, she'd have so many questions, so it might be for the best that she hasn't ever thought of traveling anywhere other than forwards in time.

There's more random bursts of flowers as they walk, sometimes in sun patches and sometimes in the shade, oftentimes with the same style of pretty white rocks, sometimes not.

"Someone must really have liked their person rocks," Malen says, looking at another arrangement. This rock arrangement is lying on its 'front,' one 'hand' outstretched towards a long stick.

Opal picks up the stick, hoping he isn't ruining someone's pretty-exercise (he's sure there's a better word for it) 

"Boy, this stick is sharp," he says, tapping the end of the stick with his thumb.

"Probably really good for poking things with!" (Malen has seen more than a few things up out of her reach that she really wants to poke.)

"We could use it to get fruit!"

"Yeah! That way we won't have to climb."

"I wonder how the girls are going with those clothes thing."

"Do you want to head back and ask? It's only been two days, but if we go much farther we might take too long returning."

"Might be a good idea, yeah."

"Okay! We can come back here later."

As they walk back, though, there's a sound through the trees - one an awful lot like voices.

Standard greeting protocol ensures. "HELLLLOOO!"

An echo of his own voice, then silence, and the voices resume. Slightly farther away.

"They're that way!" Malen says, pointing. "C'mon, we might be able to catch them!"

Opal takes off running.

"Hey wait up!" Malen says, tripping along behind him. Forest floors are even worse for running on than plains.