"We /are/?" It went up around her, the gentlest joke, a flush of spring breeze touching out of place in the heady summer warmth, there before the laughter, bells and light sounds, after images of touch. All of this working together into something half a dance, half a chant. "Our parents put us here to grow. We haven't seen them in a while by your time, but the forest isn't lonely, you know. It's just not very talkative."