Mella answers

Mella's heart hammered against her ribs. The apple she'd been holding slipped from her fingers and hit the ground with a soft thud. She could run—should run—but her legs felt rooted to the earth like the trees around her.

The human turned fully toward her hiding spot, and she saw his face clearly for the first time. Strong jaw shadowed with stubble, eyes that seemed kind even in the dim light. Not the cruel, grasping features the elders had described.

"I won't hurt you," he said, his voice low and gentle. "I heard someone enjoying the apples as much as I do."

Heat flooded Mella's cheeks. He'd heard her eating? She pressed herself harder against the bark, feeling it rough against her back through the thin layer of leaves. Her garment suddenly felt impossibly fragile, as if his gaze might strip it away entirely.

"Are you the orchard keeper's daughter?" he asked, taking a careful step closer. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I couldn't sleep and thought I'd check on the trees."

Mella's breath came in shallow pants. He thought she was human. The realization sent a strange thrill through her body. What would happen if she stepped into the moonlight? Would he see through her disguise, notice the subtle green tint of her skin, the way her hair seemed to shimmer with chlorophyll?

"I..." she began, then stopped. Her voice sounded different in the open air.

As she stepped into a beam of moonlight, she said quietly, “I couldn’t resist the apples.”

He took a careful step closer, moving like he might spook a wild creature. "I come here most nights. I've never seen anyone else who appreciates the orchard like this." His gaze traveled over her leaf-woven dress, lingering on the places where it barely covered her green-tinted skin. "Are you... what are you?"