Barking Up The Correct Tree

20250715

Prompt from the "Kev's Odyssey" series.

“Uh, hi.” The forester fiddled with his clipboard and examined the large, faced tree. “Are you, um, Willow?”
The long, wispy twigs quivered in a sibilant giggle. “By name and by nature.”
Their voice was deep and slow, polished smooth yet holding a hint of waver. Gary would never be able to describe a dull voice as ‘wooden’ after hearing this.
He took a deep breath and meekly said “I’m, um, here to collect bark?”
“Mm-hm.”
There was a long pause, then Willow elaborated “I’d guessed.”
“Do… you… mind?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, but, I mean, aren’t I… peeling your skin off? Doesn’t that hurt?”
“It stings, naturally. It isn’t painless when humans give blood, now is it?”
“W-well, no, but that’s to save a life, not… treat headaches.”
Branches waved in an airy shrug. “I’m told that magical tree parts are far more potent, so if my bark is going to treat headaches, I trust they are severe headaches.”
“Oh, fair, I didn’t mean - what you donate is valued, it really is.”
“There you are, then.” Willow’s whorled face creaked into a smile. “You know, insects burrow into my bark all the time. Birds peck bits off. Larger animals scratch themselves on me, or sharpen their claws, or gnaw. None of them stop to wonder if it hurts, or even if it might harm me. Humans are the only species that stop to ask. Which I appreciate, I do. It’s just a little funny, that even after hearing ‘yes’ you’re so hesitant.”
“I suppose that… it feels strange for a tree to be donating parts of themself to help humans.”
“Why? You’ve looked after my home for hundreds of years. Fighting fires, keeping the underbrush healthy, feeding the soil… even developing treatments for our ailments. I won’t pretend the relationship’s always been smooth, especially with the trees who can’t learn to speak your languages, but I like to think we’ve grown together. We’re neighbours.”
Leafy twigs draped across Gary’s shoulders in a light, whispering hug. “So, neighbour, in the spirit of you folks helping save Ash from that dreadful blight, let me gift you some bark.”
“When you put it like that… thank you, neighbour.” Gary started unloading his tools from the little forester buggy. “Is it, um, better to go fast or slow on the peeling?”
“Speed matters less than how smooth the peel is - when it’s ‘tuggy’ is where it gets painful. Start slow and I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it in no time. This patch on my eastsouth would be best to begin with, I think.”
“Right.” Gary nodded and walked around to the directed spot.
Trees always gave directions in terms of solar cardinals, with east/west being the primaries. You got a feel for it after a while; one of the ways humans had adjusted to working with trees.
It was only neighbourly.

Prompt was “Bark”.