Sarah was exhausted, yet satisfied. She knew her gandr was safetly in her bag now along with pouch. Maybe she should start writing the song now? Sarah had never written a song before, although she had written poems. But to a tree? Sarah still thought this worshipping of a tree was ridiculous, but she never had a choice on the matter.

She took out a partchment and quill and began to write a poem:
Its time to thank the trees
for the gifts its bestowed on me
from wood to shade and air
all of which I look on without a care


Was that alright? Sarah began to sing it, putting it to a random tune. She tried and tried until she got a tune. It was a good thing she had a vast library. of songs on memory. She stifled a yawn.
It was time to head to bed, she would continue in the morning