Nothing

This was supposed to be for a writing assignment I'm supposed to do and I used my world of Heartwood, but me being the lazy idiot I always am, didn't follow instructions properly. So, to not put it to waste, here it is for absolutely no one to see or comment on. Sorry for the mopey tone, my head hurts and I'm just done with life atm.

Might drop a mini review of Scream VI tomorrow.

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It was never a dull day in the land of Heartwood. With my sentient flora subjects of various sizes, and our animal neighbors thriving off our bounty, it was my job as Mother Nature to keep my kingdom flourishing. While my people, the Acacians, helped in preserving the land’s natural majesty from destructive creatures, the task was never a comfortable walk in the garden. Negotiating among other leaders of land, sea, sky, and even our fiery cousins within the earth’s core alone was an exhausting ordeal. My roots ached, bits of my green skin peeled off my body, and strands of my green, vine-like hair would wilt more times than I cared to count. However, Ela above would bless me with occasional days away from the racket. On one of my days of leisure, a casual visit to the family tree, I found myself tackling an arguably harsher chore: my family. My calm afternoon stroll up Golden Heights had tagged along a boisterous husband, a bold stepson, and a stern daughter—all determined to spice the trip up.

Hikes across serene areas of the country would not be complete without my love—Bernard Briars—comparing my grace to any dazzling wonder Mother Natures of the past raised from the ground up. Proud warrior king of Leporida, the land of rabbits, my valiant mammal worshipped me more than my own subjects. “The perfect rose,” he named me, showering my gentle hand with impassioned kisses. “The reason flowers bloom.” Our seedlings, of course, did not react well to our affection. My darling gave my knuckles a rest, leaping theatrically in his rustic metal armor across the mountainous trails and waving a steely sword longer than his scuffed ears. He boasted to the children with heavy stomps and hearty, silence-shattering laughter, reciting countless times the many ventures he braved and the monsters he conquered—working up a sweat upon his snow-white fur. The apple did not fall far from the tree regarding his boy, Barry.

“You already told us about the wild boar stampede, Dad,” he asked. “Any crazier ones?”

“Heh, there was the time I partnered with the Siren Syndicate, but—”

I shot a glance at him.

“That’s… not a very entertaining tale. Let’s discuss my most recent ferocious battle: indigestion.”

“Wicked!”

It was as if my husband’s pride had made a hyperactive copy. The young bunny stayed glued to his father’s ankle in awe of his wild endeavors, recklessly swinging flimsy branches around to mimic his every move. The rising hills did nothing to slow down Barry’s blinding speed as he sprinted after my bounding king. He stirred the blonde leaves that gracefully rained from the curved oak trees neatly lined up with the dirt road. Splotches of red melon juice staining his baggy blue shirt dripped to the ground—a product of an unforgiving, unquenchable thirst that left half of our hiking drinks drained. Once Bernard concluded his “riveting” story, Barry continued his exhausting display of unnatural energy, zigzagging in janky circles around us all before suddenly vanishing within the cramped army of trees. Soon, a loud smack rang out behind me.

“Ow!” Barry whined, rubbing his wrist. “Lea!”

“Oi! Paws off the nectar, mate!”

Finally, there was my small soldier, my precious bundle of anger—Azalea. A sturdy bow clipped behind her flowing yellow dress, the teen held her ground by the pouch of glowing nectar at my hip, staring—and wielding—daggers at the cheeky bunny’s throat with stern emerald eyes. As the lad scurried onward, Azalea bowed her head once we arrived at the heart of the peaceful hills, foundations of grand redwood trees scattered at every corner. At the center of the cozy meadow stood the mightiest tree in the bunch decorated in regal jewelry and flower-like ornaments. Our tree. My daughter approached it, taking a knee before the wrinkled wood with a tight fist on her chest and a solemn glare.

“Good day, Grammy Iris,” she nodded at some of the largest branches. “Great uncle Fir, great aunt Juniper, hope you’re resting easy.”

Her honored demeanor shriveled into one of annoyance as a certain white blur relentlessly derailed her concentration, darting back and forth. Plucking a long vine from her elegant hair that matched mine, she whipped the strand, snagging the rowdy runner dead in his tracks and dragging him to her side.

“Either for them, or for your own life,” she hissed. “You will be praying today.”

“Okay, sis, relax!” Barry huffed, stubbornly rising to his knees with drooped ears.

I smiled at the two, taking in the whole sight; my children kneeling before their royal ancestors—each branch a member of the family.

“Azalea, dear,” I purred. “Have you been studying your bark language?”

“Yes, Mum,” she said, rubbing a hand across the furrows on the tree leading to my mother’s branch. “Grammy Iris solved a… drought crisis about a century ago, I think.”

“That is correct, but what crisis specifically?”

“Um… the Parched Age?”

“Barry, dear?”

The bunny shrugged. “According to her books, battleaxes are on sale next Friday.”
Overall, that was how my off times usually went on. Endless smooches, noisy armor, an untamable war princess in the making, and tirelessly looking after my drinks were on my to-do list outside of the throne. It was exhausting and nothing close to relaxing, but it was something I needed in my life. I needed Bernard’s love and support since I was recently coronated and we were drastically adjusting our lands after our marriage. I needed Barry’s courageous spirit to remind myself of the simple joys in life, even if it was as lowly as a flimsy stick. While peace was always my go-to in the toughest situations, Azalea—as rough as she got—taught me not to fully tolerate the nonsense of the world; she was for certain going to have a stern talking to about those axes though. Among restless royals barking over nothing, I was Mother Nature—peaceful queen of the earth and mother to all. Among the oddest bunch to ever grace my existence, as we all admired that colossal tree under the setting sun, I knew who I truly was. I was Mary Willows, keeper of my darling’s heart and mother to two crazy troopers destined for recklessness. A title I carry from the bottom of my heart.

Comments

[ArcaneDust]

I like it. It's cute.

[Melody Song]

I think it's very lovely, and honestly if you didn't at least get some credit for being creative with the prompt then that seems like a problem with the teacher more than the piece. I liked learning more about this cute lil' family, especially from Mother Nature's pov this time

[23 KM To Nerdiness]

5717529
Thank you ❤️

No, my mother was looking it over and told me I didn't follow what the assignment called for. Haven't submitted it yet.

[23 KM To Nerdiness]

Not here, dude. That has nothing to do with this post.

[AgentKorpsman]

5717529
Agreed

[Melody Song]

5717531
Ah. Well, what was the assignment prompt?

[23 KM To Nerdiness]

5717568
Narrative essay. A lot of details with it, but mom helped out with a new one.

[Melody Song]

5717585
Ah, I see. Yeah, this ain't quite a narrative essay. Still very good