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For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Hermann Hesse
This is what I envisioned the deeper parts of the Wild Wood to look like where very little light was able to penetrate the trees. When Mole enters the forest in search of Badger it was plagued by animals with "evil little wedged-shaped faces" that disappeared into little nooks and crannies. In essence, it was spooky to say the least.