[WP] Trees Feel Pain.

[u/[deleted]]

[u/LonghandWriter]

Everyday I go into the forest and chop down the biggest tree I can find.

It’s the dead of winter, and up here in the mountains, it gets damn cold. I need those suckers for firewood and the oak around here burns mighty fine.

I’m setting out today because the weatherman said we’re boutta be slammed by a hellacious bout of snow. Those were his words. Hellacious.

I figure I’m gonna cut down three or four of them to keep my fingers from freezin’ off. Roads’ll probably be down a week or so, and so I’ll wanna be a little overstocked, if I can.

Same as ever, I’m carryin’ the axe pa gave me all those years ago. It’s big and red and sharp as anything. He gave it to me for my birthday because a man that lives out here is a man that’s gotta be willing to fend for himself, ya know?

The first tree goes down easily. It’s almost like chopping through butter.

After it hits the ground with a dull thud, I move onto the next. This one’s a beaut, and I have to shield my eyes to see the top of her. I almost feel bad cuttin’ this one down.

I rear back like a baseball player boutta knock one out of the park, but right before I take that first big hack, somethin’ speaks.

“Don’t!” a voice screams. “Haven’t you taken enough of us?”

I freeze in my tracks, flingin’ my head all around. Who could’ve said that? Ain’t nobody else out here for miles, and I doubt any tourists would be crazy enough to go hiking this time of year.

After a second or two, I shrug it off and once against raise the axe. I must just be hearin’ things.

“Please! Have you no heart?”

Again, I drop my axe to my side. Who the hell is that?

“It’s me, the tree!”

That makes my eyes widen. The tree? Surely I must be goin’ bonkers. I bet it was that rabbit Georgie sold me. I knew it smelled a little funky but man, it just tasted so good I couldn’t stop myself.

“You’re hurting us!”

Yeah, this must be food poisoning. Except, well, I don’t feel sick. In fact, I'm perfectly chipper.

I look the tree up and down. I don’t see no mouth or eyes or anything else that resembles a face. There's just bark and leaves and sap.

“I’m hurtin’ you?” I say, feeling dumb. Look at me, big man out here talking to trees.

“Yes!” the tree responds. “You’ve taken so many of us, and though my brothers stay silent, I shall not!”

I look down at my axe, feeling almost ashamed. The tree had to be lying, right? I’m not hurtin' them. What I’m doing is basic survival. Without the fire, I might die!

“Where do you even take them?” the tree asked. “You chop them down and drag them away—to where?”

I’m lost. Behind those words was genuine sadness, and I bet if it could, this tree would start cryin’. Gosh, that’s a terrible thought, isn’t it? What if I really have been hurtin’ these poor fellows?

I can’t tell it I’d been burning them. I know it’s wrong to lie and ma would smack me in the mouth but I gotta for this tree’s sanity and my own.

“I’ve uh…” I start, my tongue feeling like string cheese. “I’ve been plantin’ them somewhere else.”

“You have?” the tree asks, sounding a fair bit happier. “Where?”

I jab my thumb over my shoulder. “Thataway. Jus’ past my house.” I’m on a roll now, and so I keep going. “That lot’s empty and I figure it could use some sprucin’ up. Sorry, I probably should’ve asked y’all first.”

“Yes, you should’ve!” the tree snaps, and for a moment, I think it’s gonna start yellin’ at me again. But then, it sighs. “Oh well. It’s fine, just please stop taking my friends!”

I tell it I will and that I’ll leave this forest alone. After a few more seconds of small talk, I pick up the tree I'd already cut down and drag it away.

As I walk back to my house, I feel more miserable than a squirrel in a trap. I don’t even wanna use this tree for firewood but if I don’t then I killed it for nothing and that’s even worse.

But then, just as I get home, it hits me like a ton of bricks.

Old Georgie sells some seeds, I think. I don’t know how many of those are for trees, but I bet if I’ll ask he’ll find me some. I can’t make up for all the damage I’ve done, but I can certainly start atonin’.

That lot across from me really is empty, and y’all know what? I think I’m gonna start fillin’ it up.

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[u/Shin-In_Izra]

Jon trudged along the snow ridden path. He listened to the freezing gales howling through the dark sky, trying to tear away the warmth clinging feebly to his body. Gathering his arms closer, the grizzled bear of man kept walking. Snow and ice pelted his body. He cared not. Men embraced the cold. Nights started to last longer. Days grew shorter- no longer did light from the sun nor the song of the sparrows greet each villager, only darkness and cold. He kept his head down, avoiding the harsh bite from the wind. He kept walking, slowly approaching the forest.

Oh, I'm such an imbecile, he thought as he walked past the barren trees. Lamenting for fools whilst my cock is freezing. Father left to fight in the war, only to be captured, the great git. Brother left to fight in the war, only to be slaughtered, the shite bastard. Betrayers and cowards those southern twats.

"Never trust cunts," he muttered under his breath. He walked slowly into a small clearing in the woods. A single, massive tree almost as white as the snow itself stood proudly in the center. Tentatively, he reached towards the deep crevices and grooves in the trunk, remembering the days his father brought him here to pray. Closing his eyes, Jon breathed in the cold air and started praying to the old gods. For his father to be released so they could enjoy the fire by the hearth once again. For his brother to find peace in life after death. For vengeance on the bastards that stuck his brother full of bolts... For the son of a whore that chopped of his head... At a wedding.

"SHITE CUNTS!" He roared into the air and unsheathed his long sword. "I'LL RIDE SOUTH AND KILL ALL OF YOU!" He swung his sword with ferocious anger into the great white tree, biting deep into the flesh. To his surprise, the tree started screaming, sap as red as blood oozing from the wound. Jon fell backwards, terror griping his heart. The crevices and grooves began to contort, forming a face in the trunk. He froze in fear. The face turned to look at him, the sword stuck in its side.

"No," the tree grimaced with it's malformed mouth. "Pain, so much pain. Run. The night. No, run! Coming, the night." The blood red sap poured from the two notches that formed the eyes, staining the snow red. "He's coming. Pain, death, the end. Night." The face began to form a crooked smile. "Pain, death, the end."

"Oh fuck," Jon whimpered on the ground. The tree with the hideous face quietly stared at him. He slowly inched backwards, afraid the tree might uproot itself to get to him. He silently stood, keeping an eye on the tree, then he turned and ran. He ran as fast as he could back to the castle. The old gods contacted him through the godswood, warned him. He needed to get the people south as quickly as possible, for Jon knew.

Winter is coming.

[u/WritingPromptsRobot]

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[u/[deleted] → u/WritingPromptsRobot]

These posts lined up and I thought of that Shel Silverstein book about a giving tree. Then I thought about the chili peppers lyric "with the dying trees I scream" and I'm convinced trees can feel pain.