Something a ten year old Kira Izuru might dream of.

The trees were now interspersed. They had much thicker trunks. Their colour was so impenetrable, he couldn't see the patterns on their barks. Somewhere along his walking the sound of animals had died out (were they there, ever?) and he only noticed when his footsteps became silent too. When he looked up, a great, white tree stood in front of him.