\n by JunoMagic
\n Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives-ShareAlike license<\/small><\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\n by JunoMagic
\n Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives-ShareAlike license<\/small><\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\n
<\/p>\nWoodsprite<\/strong><\/p>\n
Treeling has been watching people. <\/em><\/p>\n
Two-legs like her, but with soft pink skin that they like to cover up with pliable bark in bright colours, colours she has never seen before, a deeper blue than the sky, a brighter yellow than the buttercups, and reds, oh, reds that put all maple trees in autumn to shame. But they are stupid, those two-legs. Their movements are clumsy and noisy. She thinks they must be blind and deaf, the way the stomp past gnomes and wights, treasures and traps. And they stink, too.<\/p>\n
But still, what they do with that colourful bark of theirs, the multi-hued leaves they wear in their eternal autumn, they fascinate treeling.<\/p>\n
So she hides, and she watches.<\/p>\n
And one day, she gets lucky.<\/p>\n
A very small two-legs, with bright red root-feet and bark like rainbows bright is playing at the water’s edge. It creates a dell in the sand, then squeals when water wells up. It repeats the process over and over again.<\/p>\n
Treeling thinks it must be very stupid indeed.<\/p>\n
But it does where the most beautiful soft red bark-leaf-two-leg-thing around its neck.<\/p>\n
Better yet: it pulls the bright red bark off (they can do that at will, those two-legs, Treeling knows, and<\/em> without hurting their core, too – she’s watched it, time and again) … and forgets to put it back on again.<\/p>\n
Not surprising,<\/em> Treeling muses, given how stupid pink-skinned two-legs are. <\/em>Still, it’s never happened before while she was watching.<\/p>\n
Someone calls.<\/p>\n
The little two-legs looks up, grimaces. Treeling giggles. Little two-legs runs off, her bright red bark, her crown of brilliant two-leg-leaves lying on the shore of the lake.<\/p>\n
Treeling creeps down to the water’s edge, inhales the soft-sweet air above the lake, and – gasps – snags – jumps –<\/p>\n
Oh!<\/em><\/p>\n
So soft!
\n So warm!
\n So red!<\/p>\nTreeling dances, Treeling twirls.<\/p>\n
Now she’ll be the prettiest wood sprite at the forest-king’s ball!<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n
Song of the day:<\/strong><\/p>\n
\n