What happened to the ironbark trees?!?

His recently activated soul ability picked up nothing threatening within its limited range, but it was like having a tiny lantern in an enormous, dark cavern—helpful but not enough to reveal what might be lurking in the shadows.

"We should be cautious but continue," Old Thomas decided after a moment's contemplation. "We need that Ironbark, but let's also keep our eyes open for anything unusual. If what I suspect is true, the forest itself is telling us to be on our guard."

Evan tightened his grip on the hilt of his hunting knife. Whatever was out there, causing this unusual behavior in the forest animals, was still a mystery. And while the unknown could be frightening, it was also a call to adventure, a test of their courage and abilities.

The team of young hunters and their experienced guide pressed on, each lost in their thoughts but united in their shared sense of foreboding and wonder. And as they made their way deeper into the forest, toward the site where the coveted Ironbark trees awaited them, each couldn't help but feel that they were also heading toward a confrontation with whatever had thrown this tranquil wilderness into disarray.

The forest, for all its beauty and life, was whispering a wordless caution to them. Today was not just another day in the woods; it was a chapter in a story still unfolding, a story that seemed ready to turn its page to something far more intense and revealing.

And so, with steps both eager and hesitant, they moved forward, toward the Ironbark, toward the unknown, toward the questions that so urgently needed answers.

As they finally reached the site where they had spotted the Ironbark trees before, Evan, Benny, and Cara were in for a surprise. The grove of Ironbark trees, which had been impressive but not overwhelming in their previous expedition, had undergone a startling transformation.

"These trees... they've grown," Evan said, almost whispering as he took in the sight before him.

"And multiplied," added Cara, her eyes widening as she counted. "There were maybe a dozen last time, and look at it now! I'd say there are at least three times that number."

Benny reached out and touched the trunk of one of the nearest trees. "And they feel... harder. As if they've aged years in just a few days."

Old Thomas stroked his beard thoughtfully. "That is highly unusual. Ironbark trees grow slowly, and they certainly don't multiply like this in such a short span. It's as if the forest is... changing."

The four stood in awe, trying to comprehend what this sudden alteration in their environment could mean. Could it be connected to the strange animal behavior they had noticed? Or the ominous footprint they had found days before? Could all these anomalies be linked in some way?

Evan's recently activated soul ability sensed nothing immediate within its limited radius, but his instincts were buzzing with a heightened sense of alertness. He looked at the Ironbark trees again. They were strong, towering, almost majestic in their strange, rapid growth.

Old Thomas, sensing the group's curiosity and amazement at the rapid growth and transformation of the Ironbark trees, decided to share some of his extensive knowledge.

"You see," he began, leaning against one of the newly grown Ironbark trunks as if to gauge its age and strength, "Ironbark trees are very special. They require a unique set of circumstances to grow. The soil needs to be rich in minerals but well-drained; too much water and they'll rot, too little and they won't grow at all."

He picked up a handful of soil and let it run through his fingers. "This forest, for reasons unknown, seems to provide the perfect conditions. It's like a sanctuary for these trees, which are rare to begin with."

"Why are they called Ironbark?" Benny asked.

"Ah, good question. They're named for their bark, which is incredibly tough and resilient, much like iron. It provides them with a natural defense against pests and diseases. It also makes them a bugger to cut down," he chuckled, rubbing his arm as if recalling countless times he'd wielded an axe against these stubborn trunks.

"But what truly makes Ironbark special is its ability to grow harder and stronger with age. Just like a fine wine or a seasoned warrior, it gets better over time. These trees have categories of age, you see. Young ones are about 10 years old, and they're still fairly soft, relatively speaking. Those around 100 years have considerably hardened. But if you find one that's 1,000 years or older... well, you've found yourself a treasure. The wood from such a tree would be almost unbreakable, and perfect for crafting weapons or artifacts of great power."

Everyone listened, enthralled.

Evan looked around at the Ironbark trees surrounding them. "How can you tell how old they are?"

Old Thomas grinned. "Experience, mostly. You learn to look at the color of the bark, the width of the rings if you can see a cross-section, and even the aura they give off. Trees that old have a sort of... presence. It's hard to describe."

Evan's newly activated soul ability tingled at the mention of 'presence,' and he wondered if, in time, he'd be able to sense the age of these trees himself.

"But these rapid changes, the sudden growth and hardening, it's unprecedented," Old Thomas continued. "I've never seen or heard anything like it. Whatever is causing it, I believe it's connected to the other strange occurrences we've been experiencing."

The group took a moment to digest everything Old Thomas had said. Not only had they learned about the valuable resource they were harvesting, but they were also left with more questions and a lingering sense of awe and unease.

Finally, Old Thomas shook his head as if to dispel his own ruminations. "Let's get this Ironbark back to the village. There's much work to be done, and many more questions to answer."

Before they could leave, there was still the matter of harvesting the Ironbark. Old Thomas chuckled as he looked at the youthful faces before him. "Alright, you three. Let's see how you fare against Ironbark. They're a tough lot, these trees. Takes a firm hand and a keen eye."

He handed each of them an axe. Evan, Benny, and Cara took their positions in front of three different trees, taking a moment to feel the weight of the axes and gauge the size of the trees.

"On my count," Old Thomas announced, raising his hand like a referee. "Three... two... one... swing!"

With that, the trio swung their axes, each with varying degrees of confidence. Evan's axe made a dull thud as it bounced off the bark, barely leaving a scratch. Benny, swinging too eagerly, lost his grip and sent his axe flying into a bush. Cara, however, managed to make a small dent in the tree.

Old Thomas roared with laughter. "Well, if it was a tree-hugging contest, you'd all be winners!"

Feeling a bit sheepish but spurred on by the good-natured ribbing, they retrieved their axes for another go. After a few more clumsy attempts, they started to get the hang of it. Evan adjusted his grip and stance, using his newly-activated soul's enhanced senses to better anticipate the angles and force needed. To his surprise, the next swing bit deep into the wood.

"There you go, lad!" Old Thomas exclaimed. "You're learning!"

With more swings, more laughter, and a few close calls—like when Benny almost swung his axe into a beehive—they finally managed to chop enough Ironbark to satisfy Old Thomas.

"Alright, that'll do for now. Let's not exhaust ourselves or anger these trees any more than we have," he said, wiping sweat off his brow. "I daresay, they've taken enough of a beating for one day."

Collecting the chopped Ironbark into the sacks they'd brought, they made ready to head back to the village.

"I must say," Old Thomas looked at the three young faces, flushed with exertion but glowing with achievement, "you lot did better than I expected. You may make fine lumberjacks yet. Or, heaven forbid, even hunters!"

They all laughed, grateful for the levity but keenly aware of the serious undertone that colored the day. As they turned to leave the Ironbark grove, Evan took one last look back. These trees, tough and almost stubborn in their resilience, reminded him of the village they were all striving to protect.

With their harvested Ironbark loaded and ready, they began their trek back to the village, their footsteps a mix of youthful energy and aged wisdom, resonating through the forest that continued to hold its mysteries close to its chest.