Your words are as hollow as your actions. You spout rhetoric and attack the dead, fearing the future as if you had any other option.

For too long you have sat idle with the trees in a stagnant relationship with no benefit.

For too long you have claimed to defend nature, yet you require the forests themselves to protect you.

The Silvari hide behind the trees, using their vantage to peer out at a world that has forgotten them.

The Animists are misguided, confused children of a stonework forest that haven't the slightest idea of the truths of the natural world.

There will be no threats, no trading of blows as if this were a war that has yet to be fought. The ending has been written in the skies as surely as if Suhkder itself scrawled the words.

We have won. Nature has adapted, grown strong in the cowardice of her servants and we have wrapped a closed fist around her, projecting the power of the Pit through the natural world to embody a force this world has never before seen.

You should prepare for your lives as they will be in our passing, for we will not pause to recite litany over your corpse.

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Aequitas, in the year 651 AD.