Ents, the shepherdses of trees. We saw one once, deep in the forest, going about its . . . its inscrutable business, yes, and muttering to itself like the creaking of branches in the wind. 'Creak, crack, hmmm, hoom.' It never noticed little old me, I was just another small and hasty animal to it. Smeagol thinks it might have been examining a broken branch, praps? Took a long time to do it, but then treeses have the time if any things do.