The Index
Chapter 3: In Which Seed Forgets His Greek Mythology, With Unfortunate Results
Seed's Story, Chapter 4: In Which We See That While Squirrels May Be Evil, Butterflies Are Usually Lawful Good.
“Why are you doing this?” In her stillness, The Oak knew many things. Her branches were as wide as the sky, and through them, she saw the world. So she turned to her fellow trees, who had once, every last one of them, been acorns on her branches, and asked. “What on earth do you hope to gain from the little thing?”
“We want to gain nothing.” “We want to gain.” “To Gain.” “To Gain.”
“Cut the bull.” The Oak stared them all down. “What do you want him for?”
“Want him? What makes you think,” said the trees with an innocent tone,
“that we want him?” “Want him.” “Want him.” “Want!”
“Your back-up singers are singing a different tune,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Tell me. Is it to start sapping all the deer from the forest? Or is he some sort of funky tree messiah? Stop me if I’m getting close.”
In the distance, the Oak could hear the trickling river and the croaking of frogs. There wasn’t even the sound of real rustling, the wind moving through the trees. They were silent and still as stone. No leaves fell in the forest, for a second; no flowers, either.
“We want…to know,” they whispered, in truly perfect unison.
“We want to know his life. To know doing. To know running, and soft touches of friends. What we are missing.”
The oak struggled for something to say to that. She knew those longings – how could she not, watching deer move in and out of her, cuddling close in the rain, dancing around her? They were so pretty and bright, like little stars.
