By the time I figured out movement the sun had already set and my middle was so empty it hurt. I felt accomplished; I could raise my head and display the thorns inside my mouth, I could move just my head forward very fast, I could move my whole body forward in a slow crawl, and I could make circles in both directions. (Moving backwards and sideways was still beyond me, but those were advanced movements for creatures so I considered myself a master of the basics.)

If the gods thought putting me in a snake body was going to make me a less awesome tree, I would prove them wrong! I would discover all the secrets of this body and then turn myself back into a tree! Even if I had to go to their land and wring their necks with this new body of mine to get the secrets to spill out. This flesh was quite strong. I’m sure I could manage.

So much time passed as I was experimenting that I was able to recall some of the ways creatures feasted. I was also able to observe some different creatures in my small section of sun and that gave me a better idea of how this body might work.

First I found some flowers to use for my first test. I waited until my tongue flicked out a few times just to get a sense of the area. I could make my tongue “taste” on purpose, but it would also do that thing on its own sometimes. Once I was sure that particular branch was under my control, I aimed it at a flower and flicked it at the middle like those multi-legged insects did. They seemed to find satisfaction in filling their middles with pollen.

A strangeness I didn’t like filled my mouth. My middle still hurt, and I didn’t sense anything different aside from that unusual sensation. No feeling of nutrients or nourishment came.

If I couldn’t eat like an insect, then it was time to eat like a four legged creature.

Rabbits, deer, and the like all ate flowers and grass. Flowers seemed to be their favorite. I opened my jaw wide and put the whole bloom into my mouth. I apologized to the plant for the trouble and then tried to eat.

I almost choked.

The bloom didn’t detach from the stem and stuck in my mouth as the plant stubbornly held on. It’s not like flowers were attached to their blooms or anything! It would shed in a day or two anyway!

I gave up and let the plant keep the stupid bloom. Why was eating so much trouble? Was eating different for no-leggers like me? The only other no leggers I knew were slimes, and they weren’t creatures I wanted to use for reference! Snakes didn’t wander up onto the hill.

Very little wandered into my territory. I knew it as a blessing and a result of my own prowess. Nothing dared to challenge my authority where my roots and my branches thrived.

Still, this was a challenge. Six leggers ate from the blooms; four leggers ate from the blooms and stems; and two leggers ate unsprouted seeds. I wasn’t about to murder unborn trees, so that experiment would never happen.

What did a no-legger eat? If only I still had my skill!

I curled up next to the flower in the dark and decided to use my “roots” skill again. It wasn’t as satisfying, but it kept my flesh alive. And it worked.

I was a mighty tree despite my form; of course I could manage this much! Trees were so grand that the gods decided every tree should have this skill. No matter what I looked like I was still a tree.

Roots.

I almost cried as the skill worked again. Something in my middle might break if I didn’t fill it soon, and the roots skill was putting back together the bits that were crumbling apart without nourishment. A small bit of waste left with the skill. I used my new-found mastery to raise my head and look behind me -

- blood from under my belly had spilled on the ground even though I didn’t have any cuts. That must be the waste the skill expelled. With “roots” there was always an exchange.

I still wasn’t satisfied, and my middle reminded me of the emptiness that plagued it. “Roots” wasn’t going to work as a long term solution. I had to learn how no-leggers ate.

The gods were laughing at me from wherever they were. A creature trying to use a great tree skill to survive? A creature whose body was far from being a tree?

You’ve had your laughs! Give me back my true roots! My strong trunk that bends to no wind and my branches that stretch to claim my space! No other tree dared invade where my boughs reached, and creatures soon found my needles too sharp for comfort. Not like these hidden thorns tucked inside a vulnerable, soft hollow. I pushed out three maples and a grapevine to thrive there, and I deserved to have my space back! It took me 200 years to master that section of hill!

In the end, no god responded to my pleas. They were petty and fickle after all, showing no mercy to the one they cursed.

I found the hole I woke in and slid back inside. This time I had enough control of my movements to avoid slithering through the blood on the ground, and was able to show a bit of respect to the carcass. I didn’t really know the other creature. It may have protected me. Showing it a bit of gratitude was the least I could do.

The hole was almost a cave formed by the roots of a blooming apple tree. I used “roots” again to show my thanks, giving a bit of nutrients to the tree. The tree, perhaps surprised by a creature with that skill, used “roots” back. The urge in my belly eased a bit now that I had permission to hide in another tree’s shade.

The exchange of nutrients between trees is our most reliable method of communication. Brushing leaves or entangling branches is very rude if you haven’t used “roots” on each other first. I might not have the proper form at the moment but I still knew my manners.

My head poked out of the hole to rest on the apple tree’s root and I watched the other snake’s remains. I didn’t feel any attachment to the other snake, mostly just curiosity. I couldn’t remember the exact way she fell on the ground but some parts were maybe missing?

Could a snake piece itself back together? I’d heard of trees - old, strong trees - that could grow back from roots alone. Even after barbaric human two leggers pulled off seedlings, slashed off branches and limbs, and even cut the trunk down to the ground. With no ability to “eat” they grew from “roots” alone and revived.

Creatures weren’t talented like that as far as I knew. Once felled they never rose again.

Something was different though. As strong as this apple was, she couldn’t consume that selectively and that quickly. I was gone less than a day.

I stayed still under the apple’s protection, waiting for the darkness to pass so I could try to “eat” again. There was some trick to it and my survival depended on understanding.

At some point my eyes closed. They opened again when the apple tree used “roots” on my slow body.

What happened? I had no sense of the time passing, but the moon was in a different place in the sky! Is this what creatures called “sleep”?

It was a disconcerting skill that blocked all sense of my surroundings. No - it wasn’t a skill at all. Something that dangerous could only be called a “curse”. It forced this body into a state like a status ailment or debuff, completely blinding all the senses. Yes, it was worthy enough to call that a curse.

I hated it.

I used “roots” back to boost myself for a moment and to thank the apple for assisting me. Without her help I didn’t know how to life that curse.

Since I had no desire to fall into a forever sleep like all other creatures inevitably did, I needed to become a tree again. This little sleeping episode only reaffirmed my goal as urgent.

Something on the other side of the apple’s roots moved. That must be why the tree woke me from my curse. I turned my head and looked. Another creature - a four-legger - was outside the hole. The noise was the animal pulling pieces of snake into smaller pieces before swallowing them whole! This four-legger ate no-leggers! And I had no promise it would wait until I was dead before it would eat me!

And then yellow eyes turned towards me. In an instant I felt like a tree again: so stiff that I would never move except to grow.