She crept with delicate steps to get a closer look. The nymphette held tight to the heavily lined old oak and peaked around its girth. There was something just beyond the treeline, a shape pressed into the golden drying grass. She had heard of humans, creatures to beware of, the ones we must never ever under any circumstances encounter or be seen by. Was this a human?
Squirrel’s chittering made her look up.
“I didn’t say I was going to investigate. Mind your business, Squirrel.”
But Squirrel did not stop with its incessant noise, which Blue Bird had now picked up and begun its chiding as well.
“Stop it, both of you. You’ll wake the whole forest.” But it was too late. Grandfather Oak stretched his stiff limbs, knocking into Weeping Willow, and we all know where that went.
On and on, one after the other, like domino tiles, one movement led to another until the entire forest was buzzing with activity. The figure in the field stirred and sat up.
Nymphette slip behind the cover of grandfather’s girth, peaking out in fleeting glances. The creature stood on two long limbs, stretched and began to walk away.
(To be continued)