The orchard

The night was cool, and the moonlight spilled through the branches like silver water, guiding her path. Mella moved silently, her bare feet barely disturbing the undergrowth. Each step carried her closer to the edge of her familiar world and toward the dangerous territory of humans.

Her heart quickened as the trees thinned. The scent of apples wafted on the breeze, sweet and tangy, making her mouth water. She paused at the forest's edge, scanning the orchard beyond. Row upon row of trees stood like sentinels in the moonlight, their branches heavy with fruit.

No sign of humans. At this late hour, they would be in their dwellings, asleep. At least, that's what she hoped.

Mella drew a deep breath and darted across the open ground between the forest and the orchard. The grass tickled her feet, different from the soft moss of her home. She reached the first apple tree and pressed her back against its trunk, listening —nothing but the rustle of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl.

The apples hung above her, dark shapes against the night sky. She reached up and plucked one, its skin cool and smooth against her fingers. She bit into it immediately, the crisp flesh giving way with a satisfying crunch. Juice trickled down her chin as sweetness exploded across her tongue. Worth the risk, she thought, taking another bite.

A twig snapped somewhere to her right.

Mella froze mid-bite, her eyes flying open. She swallowed hard, the partially chewed apple going down her throat with difficulty. That sound wasn't made by any forest creature—it was too heavy, too careless.

Mella crouched lower, her leafy garment rustling against her skin. She pressed herself against the tree trunk, willing her green flesh to blend with the bark. Her fingers tightened around her shortbow, though she prayed to the ancient trees she wouldn't need it.

A human shape emerged from between the rows of apple trees. Tall and broad-shouldered, moving with purpose rather than stealth. Moonlight revealed a man with dark hair tied back from his face, wearing simple clothes that hugged his form.

Mella's breath caught in her throat. She'd never been this close to a human before. The elders' warnings echoed in her mind: "They'll trap you, bind your magic, **** you to make their lands fertile while you wither away from your home."

Yet something about this human made her hesitate rather than flee. Perhaps it was the gentle way he touched the trees as he passed, or how he paused to breathe in the night air with evident appreciation.

He stopped at a tree not ten paces from her hiding spot. Mella tensed, preparing to sprint back to the safety of her forest. The man reached up, plucked an apple, and bit into it with the same pleasure she had felt moments ago.

A strange warmth bloomed in her chest. This human understood the joy of fresh apples under moonlight. Without thinking, she shifted her weight, and a dry leaf crackled beneath her foot.

The man's head snapped toward her. "Who's there?”