The Woeful Dryad

A long trek up and down the sides of the mountain path do not yield an exit to the lush and dense forest you're trapped inside of. Soon the path is lost and the morning sky has become midday. So you sit upon a log, and a form comes into view, a rather somber looking woman shaped tree motions toward you slowly, with a deep and mourning voice, There was another like you, who sat upon that very spot, long ago. The thing moves slowly, her eyes scanning nothing but what must be sad memories.