The quiet forest spoke to me. It asked me why I came here, and I told it of the destruction to come. It pleaded for mercy, and I told it that it was not I who was leader of this destruction. There was one tree that was different from the others. The leader of the forest, perhaps, since there was no life other than the trees and grass.
I had no choice but to agree to the proposition.
I said I would help, so long as they let me live there afterwards.
My house was horrible. I just wanted to leave it. So I had to agree.