Minutes passed. Both parties stood still without movement.
Windling stood behind Garen and kept yawning, evident to how suited this place was for a nap.
Soon, noon arrived. The scorching hot golden rays came from above and bathed the whole forest in sunlight.
At this moment, the old tree opened both of its eyes. It opened its mouth, and an old voice came out.
"It has eight legs, and is able to hold water. While its speed is slow, it runs very steadily."
"It's a repetition from the previous riddle." Beckstone muttered.
Garen heard it from afar as well. It was as if the voice had directly entered into his mind. Although he didn't know what language it spoke, he somehow knew what it said.
He started thinking about the riddle.
