May as well, you already went through this much trouble to save her.

"Greetings, Willow." You nod your head, before pointing to the thick tree line. "Lead on. I will follow."

She takes you across the field separating the road and the tree, your heavy tread leaving deep imprints in the soft earth. The ground isn't quite muddy, just soft, like a freshly plowed field. The grass barely reaches your ankles, white and yellow flowers rising above the green to add a splash of colour to your surroundings.

When Willow and you enter the tree line, she seems to get a spring in her step. She practically skips through the forest, happily bouncing over roots and dancing around trees. You watch your step, the gloomy half-light beneath the trees ensuring the ground is difficult to fully make out.

Eventually, after several minutes of walking, you arrive at a small clearing. The ground here is grassy again, green and lush, the sun shining above you. There is a small brook gurgling along the far end of the meadow, splashing over stones and down the incline into a small ravine.

In the center of the clearing sits a lone willow tree, maybe ten feet tall and with a canopy twice that in diameter. Willow (her name derived from the type of tree she was born, you suppose) skips over to it, before pressing her wooden hand against the trunk, claws splayed wide.

After a few seconds, the wooden armour and claws are replaced with a brown skinned girl, who looks barely older than twenty. Her body is slender in figure, with long coltish legs and slim arms without either fat nor muscle. Wearing a green toga-like garment made of some woolen fabric, she happily strides over to you.

Soft green eyes and a dainty little button nose grant her a cute, almost innocent appearance. She holds out her hands, and you look at her strangely for a moment. Then, you remember the dagger, and drop it into her hand. She smiles up at you, her teeth tiny and marble-coloured.

"So..." She says, walking back over to her tree and slipping the dagger into a tiny space between one of the roots and the ground, before returning to you. "Can I offer you something to eat? Maybe some berries? Do you eat food, or are you like a demon under that armour?"

"I'm almost fully human," You assure her, nodding. "Just a couple of mild mutations, though they hardly look the part."

"Prove it." She demands, standing on her tip toes and tapping the face of your helmet with a dainty little finger. "Take this off."

You stab your shield's sharp point into the ground and leave it standing free, before reaching up to your helmet. You'd removed your helmet a few times before, but it was always hard to make out your face in the dark. You knew you were human, however, so that wasn't a lie.

You pull of your helmet, revealing yourself to this diminutive Dryad. She raises an eyebrow and reaches up to your face, poking at your left cheek before tracing a strange line up it towards your temple.

"Cool tattoo!" She says, smiling. "So, you've proven that you aren't a demon. That means you eat food, right? So, can I get you some berries? Or maybe something else?"