Very Short Autumnal Dryad Stories

In preparation for the coming autumn, dryads the world over gather in small groups and exchange gossip, share resources, play games, and braid twigs in each other’s hair. Gifts are exchanged, vows are renewed, grievances are forgiven.

Many dryads will have already begun to sport the coming season’s hues of reds and golds, and it is not unknown for fashion contests to be held.

Forests rife with oak trees are significantly quieter during these times, as the natural world lays in quiet hush, anticipating the event. Celebrations begin at sunrise and last until sunset. In the (incredibly rare) event you are able to attend, you simply must try the acorn wine. The end of the celebration is marked with a dance to bring luck and prosperity for the coming year.


I gasp, I gasp, I gasp, I grasp autumnal air and stuff it into my lungs,
Where it can follow me home,
Where it can keep me safe.


Like a dream unfolding, the gigantic dryad awoke and shed her tree form with a graceful stretch and yawn. Eyes as large as the moon in the sky, she sleepily reviewed her forest. Silently, she counted each branch, each leaf. She knew them all by name. She dusted off the lingering green from her hair and flesh and gazed into the sunrise with a warm smile. As tall as a skyscraper, as powerful as the coming storm, the dryad waded through the foliage. With careful gestures, she began plucking the green away, storing it in gems for future use.


“Goatrude.”

The dryad looked at the goat sternly. “Have you been eating from my magic garden again?”

The goat looked at the dryad defiantly before turning away with an offended expression.

“Don’t you sass me!” The goat belched a black fireball and lowered its head guiltily.

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