The priestess froze as the tree whispered once more, “Save me.”

Her hand carresses the trunk. “The gods have imprisoned you here, I must not defy them.”

The branches shuddered as an anguished voice repiled. “Twas not a divine punishment, I was imprisoned by the last priestess to commune with nature as you do, doomed to wait fifty years for her successor, as she herself died at the scene, hoping that we would die together, and none would ever free me.”

“And yet you live and do not yet join her,” the priestess said, confused. “Why?”

“It was a tragic betrayal, my transformation.” The voice replied. “For in life, I was not human. I was a creature of the forest, a faun, a satyr; therefore the priestess—the witch—anguished to love me. She would rather doom us both to the Underworld; then live askance as the mate of a nymphly being.”

The priestess made her decision. “I would like to know you my forest nymph. I would like to know you as my predecessor could not, and show you a love as it should be—for that is why I have this gift—for the love of nature that beats in my breast…and thus, I free you.”

The tree pulsed like a heartbeat, and then exploded in a burst of leaves, revealing the nymph—the man—beneath; as the maiden embraced him with joy.