Corteccia carries every scar the tree has survived. Run your fingers her and read the whole story- drought, frost, lightning, and still standing.

Fiamma is not destruction. She is transformation. The forest knows her and does not fear her. From what she clears, the most beautiful things return.

Antico remembers the forest before your ancestors were born. He does not speak often. When he does, listen - with every fiber of your being.

Guardiano stands at the end of things where the forest meets the field, where the wild meets the tame. He decides what crosses and what cannot pass.

Spine protects what is tender. She is not cruel-she is careful. The sweetest fruit often grows closest to her, if you are willing to pay attention.

Vento cannot be held or seen, only felt. He moves through the forest carrying messages between trees, seeds between seasons, and and news from places you’ve never been.

Ramo reaches. Always outward, always toward something. He is the part of the tree that refuses to stay still, that insists on more.

Quercia has stood through a hundred storms and will stand through a hundred more. He does not bend easily. But when he does, it means something.

Notte is not something to be afraid of. He is the exhale for the whole forrest. Hwe is not the end of the day; he is the beginning of the dream. He is the darkness that gives morning meaning.

Radice has lived beneath these woods longer than the oldest tree remembers. He dose not move quickly. He does not need to. Everything that stands tall began with him.

Alba arrives before anyone is watching. She is the moment the forest remembers it is alive - the first bird, the first light through the canopy, the first breath of a new day.

Ombra lives where the light doesn’t quite reach. She is not darkness - she is cool shelter beneath the oak on a hot afternoon. She is rest.

Pietra has been here before the forest. She will be here after. She does not hurry her opinions and does not change them lightly.