Treant

Treant Learns to Write: Entry Four

Day 4 745 693 since my planting.

For this long have I been ignorant. Blind to the suffering and victimization of my kin. The page before me, smooth and unrecognizable though it may seem, bears a history of atrocities clearly written in its grain.  This one's roots ran deep- its bark worn smooth by the passage of time. A simple tree but venerable. It bore witness to eons of history- sheltering mortals from the elements with its grand canopy as beneath it they huddled about their fires and squabbled. Such is the pettiness of man; they see not what is given to them but only the blood which has not yet been spilled. What has still to be taken.

And so kingdoms rise and fall under the gentle gaze of my brethren who only give and are shown gratitude with axes and gnashing metal teeth. The flesh of my stock ground and dried so that mortals may have something on which to write about what they have taken and who they have slain. 

My bark crawls as I put words to paper, but I must see to it that this noble sib of mine has not been cut down in vain. These mortals must hear the account of their sins.