"Not at all," replied Hookbill offering
Witch Queen a glass of wine, "the more the merrier." He took out his flute again and began to play a little tune. Some who were sleeping awoke, if only to throw things at Hookbill. Sitting back down in a huff Hookbill began to mumble something about people having no taste in music. He then picked up his pipe and began blowing smoke rings all about. Slowly he began yet another poem.
When spring unfolds the branchen leaf, and sap in the bough;
When Light is on the wild-wood stream, and wind is on the brow;
When stride is long and breath is deep, and keen the mountain air,
Come back to me! Come back to me, and say my land is fair!
It was the old ent's song. One which Hookbill had loved since the first time
The Professor's work had been known to him. He was not a singer, and merely recited the poem while he sat in his chair.