Day two. I don’t feel quite so cold anymore. My skin has started to roughen and take on a distinctly brownish tinge. It’s harder to move my limbs. I suppose I should think about settling into a comfortable position, because sooner or later I’ll freeze that way. But it’s all good; my inner tree is starting to become my outer tree. I need not worry about winter anymore.

It’s funny how all the cares and stress of my job seem to drift away now. It seems like the day is starting to go faster—the leaves of my brothers are blurring in the wind, and the sun moves almost visibly across the sky.

In the afternoon, some people come and stand nearby. They’re wearing green, perhaps they’re forest rangers? I try to wave to them, but my arms don’t move so well now. They’re moving around so much they’re not more than blurs anyway.

One of them tries to move me, but I’m firmly rooted in the ground by this point; there’s nothing they can do.

They leave, and night falls. I feel the rustling of a squirrel along my branches.

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