A Walk In The Woods, So Misunderstood

I stride into the forest with a crunch

As whiskers of the trees attack my face

I hear a sound and quicken up my pace.

I do believe a monster thinks me lunch,

And I prepare to give the thing a punch.

I start to sprint– I hope without a trace.

I trip and lose the hope to win this race.

What creature could this be? I have no hunch.

-

But as I turn I see a maiden fair.

She's lost and needs direction to the path.

I laugh and tell the truth: I had a scare.

She laughs as well, and can't believe the math,

That she is e'er too small to so prepare.

And I agree: No need for wrath,

-

Indeed, my dear, it hath

No need for worries, but for something else.

The beauty introduces self as 'Chels.'