There's someone in my forest.

  I can hear him, fiddling about the undergrowth, murmuring to himself. They're vain and thoughtless murmurings, especially since they are about to get him killed.

  My long, vine-like tail whips past the branches around me as I crouch in the canopy above him. I duck my head low, searching for the trespasser through the trees and trying not to rustle anything with my wooden horns. In this part of the woods, trees grow wild and thick, their leaves allowing only dapples of sunlight for the undergrowth to feed on. There isn't a single path here; not a road, not a patch of gravel, not even footprints marking worn spots in the soil.

  As a result, my intruder bumbles around, struggling to navigate through this place he should not be in.

  I can't quite see him in full yet, but his shape is barely visible in the sparse sunlight. He's a human for sure. There isn't a hint of the green skin or plant-like features us forest nymphs have. No horns, no tail, no claws. No natural defenses. Easy to kill.

  "Look at you!" he says quietly to himself. "Wow! Such a beautiful flower. You're just the kind of specimen I need. Hold on just a moment...you stay right there..." He shuffles in a circle, examining something.

  My claws move silently through the branches as I crawl closer to him. I've never killed a human before, though I've heard they don't put up much of a fight unless they have a weapon. I doubt this dopey boy does.

  "...hard shape to get right. But that's okay, it only means I need to practice. No offense, you are perfect just the way you are." A sound I'm not familiar with comes from his direction, a faint scraping and scratching.

  I have to admit, listening to him talk to himself is mildly entertaining. He doesn't speak the language of nature, obviously. If he did, he would know that blue viperweeds—a flower with sharp, triangular petals he appears to be analyzing right now—are a proud sort. The last thing they need is flattery.

  Steadily, I climb down the trunk of the tree to get a clearer view of my target. Against the greens and browns of the forest, I'm almost invisible. The blue viperweed grows out of an ancient stump. The tree it used to uphold lays far to the left, its dead bark making a fertile nursery for new plant life.

  And then I see him. The human.

  He's leaning against a broad tree, a couple odd tools in his hands. A book made of paper and a pencil made of wood. I recognize these things. They're harvested from dead trees. Though with humans, they harvest wood from trees even before they die. How barbaric.

  And yet, seeing him in full makes me pause.

  The human's round face is framed by long, dark hair, though a strand in front is dyed verdant green. His skin is pale, but sun-tanned. Clearly, he does this kind of thing a lot. His clothing is human in style: a green vest over a brown long-sleeved top complimented by a plain cloak and pants.

  Yes, he's normal as far as humans go. Average, even.

  But I still can't stop staring at him. I blink away my daze, refocusing. Right, I'm here to kill him. How should I go about it? Should I slit his throat? Disembowel him? Cut off his limbs and leave them by the road to strike fear into the hearts of the humans who find him?

  I'm not sure. This territory, although it's mine, is new to me. I haven't had to defend it yet.

  Hm. Do I really...have to kill him? I mean, sure, he's a trespasser and a dirty human. But...humans are still sentient, even if they are animals. Could it be more trouble than it's worth? Not to mention, he's actually kind of...

  No, what am I thinking? I stifle the thought before it can come to fruition, already sensing its conclusion. Absolutely not.

  The dope hasn't noticed me despite my hesitation. He's still scribbling away on his tree-killing book between glancing at the flower. What's he doing, anyways?

  He suddenly snaps the book shut, startling me. Without thinking, I scramble back through the undergrowth.

  "Huh?" I can't see him anymore. "Is someone there?"

  Just kill him, kill him now! That's what I should do. But for some reason—some nature forsaken reason—I can't bring myself to do it. What is wrong with me? What happened to my killer instincts? My parents didn't train me to hesitate like this!

  Not sure what else to do, I turn myself into a tree.

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  It's a quick process, barely an inconvenience. Within seconds, my form shifts, warping and losing all shape to make up a small trunk. My horns widen, branching hundreds of times and steadily filling with leaves.

  And then, the world is quiet. When I enter my tree form, everything feels so much clearer. I can taste the sun, the soil, the moistness of the water underground.

  Some nymphs stay like this for decades, and I understand why. But I'm not that kind of nymph. This was a transformation of desperation.

  When I'm a tree, I can't exactly see or hear anything. I sense the world through other means, a communication between my roots and the plants nearby in the language of nature.

  The boy is walking toward me. Through vibrations, I sense he says, "Hello?"

  He pauses, shuffling for a moment nearby. Then, he stops. "Whoa!" He's looking directly at me. Does he know something's amiss? "You're new."

  For a moment, I panic. At least, as much as I can in this calm, sturdy state. Then I remember that this boy loves talking to inanimate objects.

  "These leaves...they're nothing like I've seen before! Are you a hybrid?" He reaches up and brushes some of my leaves, sending a tingling sensation through my bark. They are unique. Every nymph tree is. Mine are green with reddish veins, narrow and sharp at the end. "I have to draw you," he declares.

  The human sits down on the grass and pulls out his book again. Ugh. We're gonna be here a while.

  "So pretty," he mumbles to himself. "So fancy! You are really something else."

  At his words, I feel a myriad of flowers bud on my branches.

  No, no, no, stop that! Am I blooming flowers for him?! I can't like this human! Is that why I hesitated earlier? Has my brain turned into hormonal mush?

  I guess it is springtime. But for nature's sake, can't my mind form a crush with dignity?!

  Gross. That's what human-nymph relations are, they're gross. I'm a plant, he's an animal. It's just not right. I repeat that in my mind over and over again.

  "Wait, have those always been there?"

  Nooooooooooo! This is so embarrassing! I will my flowers to stop growing, but I have little success. Maybe I'll stay as a tree for the next century. If the other nymphs could see me now...

  He stands and walks closer. "Does this bark have a pattern? Interesting." Then, he reaches forward and runs a hand over me.

  At his touch, I instantly deform and vault away. My branches and roots pull into me, and the trunk shrinks back into my shape. I hiss at him, baring my thorn-like teeth and brandishing my claws.

  The human yelps and stumbles back. Then, he blinks at me. Why isn't there fear in his eyes? There should be fear in his eyes!

  "I-I'm so sorry!" His face turns red. "I didn't realize—that tree—you're a nymph!" He looks at his hand, looks at me, then turns even more red.

  I don't say anything, instead letting out an animalistic growl. If I look angry for long enough, maybe he'll take a hint and never come back.

  "I didn't know nymphs could be trees," he says dumbly. "How did you do that?"

  "What are you doing in my forest?!" I finally boom. I smooth over the nervous shake in my voice with volume.

  "I'm sorry," he rushes again. "I'm an aspiring botanist. I came to study the plants here. I didn't mean to disturb you." Despite his apologetic attitude, he doesn't run. He doesn't even give me a hasty, "I'll be on my way, then!" He just stares at me.

  I stalk closer to him, practicing my aggressive swagger. "Listen here, human." I circle him, keeping my stare hard. I can't help but take in his features, though, and his lack of any nymph qualities. How do humans get around without a tail? No wonder he's so clumsy. "You're a long way from home. Do you have any idea how much danger you're in?" I stop in front of him, leaning forward to snarl at his face. I have to look up since he's taller than me, which is annoying.

  He leans back, but still doesn't budge. His wide green eyes stay fixed on me. Like he hasn't heard a word I said, he asks, "Can I draw you?"

  My thoughts stumble. "Uh..." I lean back, lashing my long tail. "No! Of course not!"

  "Oh..." He looks down at his notebook. "I was hoping to add you to my encyclopedia. It's okay, I understand. Not everyone likes to be drawn."

  "I am an apex predator!" I declare. "I will not be depicted in some....encycle...encycler...encylcepede..."

  "Encyclopedia," he says again. "It's a book of information. I'm helping to write one about the plant life in the area."

  "I don't care!"

  "Do nymphs count as plant life?" He tilts his head curiously.

  "Yes—No, I don't know!" I shake my head. "What is wrong with you?"

  He shrinks and frowns. "I don't know. Sorry."

  "Well, I didn't—" the words tumble out, forced from instant guilt. "I didn't mean it like that." No, I'm losing my scary voice. Don't feel bad for this human! "I meant, why aren't you intimidated?"

  "Should I be?"

  "I can kill you in seconds!" I press one sharp claw into his chest. "It would be so easy." I drag it up to his neck, letting him feel the razor edge. "Aren't you terrified?"

  He looks down at me, attempting to inch away from my claw, but I keep it pressed to his skin. "Well, a little. You're very intimidating." He straightens his back. I can sense the tenseness of his body, even if his dopey face doesn't look that scared.

  "Yes. I am intimidating." Thanks for finally noticing. I squint at his green eyes, the right one halfway hidden by that stupid loose strand of dyed hair. Why doesn't he cut it? It looks dumb. Probably blocks his vision, too. Idiot human.

  "Um, do you know that there are flowers growing in your hair?"

  I stagger back from him and run a claw over my scalp, feeling a few buds. Absolutely mortified, I rip them out, letting the petals fall to the floor.

  "Is that normal for nymphs?" He tilts his head and steps toward me. "None of the pictures I've seen have had flowers. Are you sick?"

  "That's none of your business!" The flowers continue to grow almost faster than I can rip them out. "Why won't you leave? Just go away! I don't want you here!"

  "But my—"

  "I don't care about your encyclopeony! If you don't scat by the count of five, I really will kill you!" I hold up my hand for emphasis, counting down claw by claw. "Five...four..."

  "Okay, okay!" The human stumbles back into the trees. "Well, goodbye! My name's Jade, by the way!"

  "GET OUT!" I don't humor him with a proper response. The flowers don't stop growing until the forest is quiet again and he's gone.

  I stand there for a moment, clenching my claws. Stupid human. Stupid flowers. Stupid hormones.