Oak looked at his brothers and sisters and cousins. “Tool. Spear,” he said.

  He hefted the spear. It was a gift from Friend Broccoli. A Tool. His first tool.

  Two abominations were held against trees, roots ing around their struggling form. His spear shed out. One of them died.

  Elm and Ash and Cedar and Piched.

  “Tool?” Ash, always inquisitive, asked.

  “Tree-Friend Broccoli. er of trees. Give tools.” He took a deep breath, his insides creaking with exhaustion. So many words.

  “Good,” Cedar said.

  He he ool came up. It was a long pole, bent, with a taut viween both ends. This one had fused him. Then he saw the frog-people hunters. He uood then.

  An arrow was nocked.

  He loosed.

  The sed abomination squealed at the hit. He had missed its head, but it was still ihe arrow missed entirely. Then third killed.

  “Tool... bow,” he said.

  “Use?” Ash asked.

  “Teach,” Oak said.

  Soon Sister Broccoli’s vision for an armed forest would be aplished.

  ***

  This is to annouhat there's a sidestory, avaible here, about our dear treeboy. It's set in the same world as amon Bun, and is on, but the tone and theme are a little different.