He knew the Great Woods better than most. He knew those places in that were sacred and special to the Elder Peoples. Like any prudent man, he stayed well clear of such...until today.
Today he would find that which would forever win him Varenia. On Valentine's Day he would present her the legendary Pixie Primrose. Found only in the deepest deep of the forbidden lands, they were tiny, delicate, perfectly-formed examples of natural beauty. They were a fitting gift to she who possessed the same qualities.
No sooner had he plucked a wondrous miniature bouquet when he was seized by the Old Magic that guarded the Woods. Wrist-thick vines pinioned him to an ancient oak. A strange alien presence invaded his mind.
"You presume to take what is not yours, human? That's not good...not good at all. Your grubby hands, your plodding feet, your eyes, your nose...We could go on listing the means by which you have assaulted Our domain but, to be honest, you bore Us. Please try to die quietly and quickly."
He did die rather quickly but hardly quietly. Thorns and branches flayed him bloody before the vines, at length, took mercy, of sorts, and tore him limb from limb.