This tree was apparently once held sacred by the Horsingdon Coven, on account of it being struck at the culmination of one of their hideous rites by a monstrous bolt of lightning: one which not only fell unexpectedly from out a cloudless night sky, but which also split the uppermost part of the trunk into what appear to be two great goat-like horns.
It is said that when the tree was thus sundered, a swarm of horrible, bulbous white spiders poured from out its innards onto the hapless high priestess, devouring her. It is also said that, in this fashion, her body was returned to the earth, and her consciousness made one with Those who dwell within it; thus was the ritual deemed a success, and thus did the coven believe themselves to have earned the favour of Those Who Wait.
Whether this was indeed the case remains a matter of speculation; what one might conjecture, however, from this freakish and grotesque episode of the region's praeternatural history, is that the Hosingdon landscape remains forever hunger - and is equally willing to consume the flesh and to drink the blood of friend and foe alike in order to sate its endless, mindless appetite.
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