There’s a tree that sits in the middle of Woodzley. It’s not a very wide tree nor is it very tall. It doesn’t even have many leaves on it and it’s kind of small. But none of that really matters to Pozzum, she loves it just the same. There’s even a little mailbox beside it that bears her very name. Not a day goes by when she doesn’t smile at someone passing by. She enjoys spending time, watching the clouds intertwine, it brings a twinkle to her eyes. Just hanging around with her feet off the ground and looking at the world turned upside down. In all of its many splendors, Pozzum’s favorite tree holds good and bad times that she fondly remembers, and hold close to her heart somehow. Most likely, she’s probably waiting for Ferald, to come along any minute now.