You are surrounded from north, east, and south with thick woodland. High above you the trees have formed a natural canopy, blocking much of the sun- light. At the edges of the stone-hard, soil-strewn path are low to the ground plants, with bright green leaves and soft orange and white blossoms about the diameter of a human thumbnail. Just beyond them are low growing shrubs bear- ing sweet berries. A sweet fragrance fills the air here, and you see honey bees visiting the flowers. Yet their buzzing is muted, as though silenced. The branches of one tree to the east seem to have curled back to the trunk, forming a natural cradle along the western side of the trunk. Resting on its back within the cradle is a large parrot. It does not appear to be moving at all, though, not even breathing. You see small letters carved into the wood of the branches forming the cradle. The leaves rustle in the breeze, but you hear no rustling noise. In here the silence is almost deafening.