Owen wasn’t sure what was going on. He was in a random cleaning in the woods at night because he just had to be there for some reason that no longer made sense and the forest, he didn’t know how he knew it was the forest, but he did, was somehow speaking to him.

Though speaking implies certain things that the forest barely classified as. It was like whispering smoke in his ears, and directly in his head, there were so many voices (Fifty? One hundred? One thousand?) overlapping and yet still one voice, and it was pressuring him to try and speak with it, to join the voices in their words that meant nothing yet everything. He remained silent save his own loud breathing.

The temperature had dropped and the wind was howling in the distance. Owen was rather grateful for his favorite red hoodie at this point. Fog had rolled in and was swirling around the clearing. He felt his own quivering breaths puff up into the in front of his face. All his limbs were shaking and he was frozen in place, but his left hand stubbornly held onto his flashlight as his right gripped his black cargo pants tightly.

As suddenly as everything had gotten overwhelming, things calmed to an almost bearable level. He shakily let go of his pants and fiddled with the front pocket of his hoodie. And then the forest spoke in a still overlapping yet actually understandable voice

Welcome to the Heart of the forest, young one. Fear not, we wish you no harm, we merely need your assistance. Oh. You wish to speak, young one?

“Y-yeah why am I here? What are you? Why me?” Owen finally said after a moment of hesitation. And in its calming whispering voice the voice replied

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Many questions then. To answer your first query, it’s simple, I called and you answered. For your second, more complicated, I am the voice of Oakwood’s forest, I have been here since the first time life grew from this land, I am more too, however there is simply no full translation that you could understand, young one. In regards to your third, you simply fit the role I need you for, no others would do.

“What role?! What does that even mean!?”

Patience, young one. I have a voice, but I can’t talk to most, can’t interact with most. I need someone to be my communication with the beings outside of My forest. You would be My communicator, My Hart. And in return I will be Your forest, Mine to protect and to care for.

Owen felt himself shiver at the phrasing. But also-

“Was that a play on my last name? Really? Voice of the forest making a pun? Also can’t help but notice the change from ‘would’ to ‘will’ in there. Are you even giving me a choice in this whole situation? ‘Cause it doesn’t sound like it.”

You have choices. You can accept now or later, that’s your choice to make.

He thought for a moment. This was a forest creature, so why not try for some more fae like rules (or the things he knew of them)? It probably couldn’t hurt. So what were the things he absolutely needed? Definitely his family, he didn’t want them or himself getting injured, that was it - no wait he needed to be able to leave the forest too.

“Fine! If I accept, you promise you won’t hurt me or my loved one’s and let me leave the forest?”

Those are acceptable terms. Do you accept? You must say: ‘I Owen Hart, accept and agree to your terms’

Owen found himself hesitating for several seconds before breathing in for a moment and sighing.

“I Owen Hart, accept and agree to your terms”

Excellent

And the forest rushed back into a commotion.