A reek of decay hung in the air; gray moss bearded the trees, and poisonous vines twisted in rank tangles.

The vines she had so carefully untangled burst free and instantly twisted back around the tree trunk.

Below, the trees merged, vine and root endlessly crisscrossed and twisted around each other, vying for position and stretching off into the horizon.

The vine twisted so that the mouth faced the bard.

Its vines twisted to grab him, but they lacked the strength of a real tangler, even a dwarf species.

Red vines like blood vessels twisted over the landscape, wrapping around the dark, leafless carcasses of trees.

Thick vines sloped and twisted, immense ferns sprayed out of the ground and from within dark recesses of the underbrush.

More thick yellow vines twisted around my legs.

The vine itself is modeled as a pair of elastic filaments twisted around one another.

The wall around Shadowland still stood, though, and other vines twisted happily through the brick, clumping and blossoming where the top layer had broken off.