Oakenhowl was an old treant older than even the eldest of humans. They stood over 15 meters tall and had a tall crown of thick, forking branches covered in crimson leaves as summer came to a close. A family of mice had slept in the hollow of a branch during a mild winter. It was an experience the treant would never forget, or so they told themselves. Their strong trunk was enjoyed as protection by many creatures; perhaps some would become the treant's friends.
There was a knotty visage within the bark; it looked almost carved into the treant's wood itself. Their branches, thick and stretched outward, were capable of moving with incredible speed. Their strength was terrifying, though use of force was never needed. Two thick legs were capable of lifting the treant, strong enough to carry the treant wherever it wished.
The little treant slept most of the time, though dreamt of exploring while doing so.