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Description
When she had been chosen by the tribe and sent off, she had no quarrels or grievances. After all, it was a decision made for the good of her people and their home. All Conifer Dryads knew this, and many were ready for when that day came. In time, that day arrived for her tribe, when they had too many members for them to support and the lottery was drawn for who would be sent off. As one who had not married or bred, she was high on the list, and in the end it was her name that was chosen. As per tradition, she was given some supplies, her bow and the three arrows, and was sent off into the wilderness. Her experience as a hunter helped her acquire food and fur, but she knew that she could not survive the harsh winter alone. She would need to find another group to join up with, or at least seek warmer lands. In the end, she chose the latter, and headed to the south. Surely down there, where the winter was a bit tamer, she could find a purpose and place. Much to her pleasure, she picked up the tracks of a nomadic group of dryads, and she followed the trail. A nomad's life was one she was quite used to, and she felt that she would fit right in with this mysterious group. With her superb tracking skills, she located these dryads and made contact. Though she had never ventured beyond the frozen north in her past, she had heard tales of dryads elsewhere. These particular ones, though, were quite new to her.

First of all, they were much shorter than she expected, hardly taller than the saplings back home. They also had these weird colored head caps, which didn't seem helpful for protecting from claws and teeth or for headbutting said beasts. The strangest thing of all, though, was their carefree attitudes. She had seen saplings with more maturity than these individuals, as they constantly cracked jokes, goofed off and made nuisances of themselves. How had these creatures survived so many years with these unprofessional ways? How was throwing manure at random travelers in any way helpful to their well being? Seeing these childish antics, she figured she could do this small group a favor by joining them and teaching them real skills and discipline. Goofy as they were, they at least welcomed her to their "tribe" warmly and enthusiastically. That, however, was the last real positive thing she could say about them at the moment. It seemed her attempts at training and lessons were not being taken seriously, and they always had a way of turning things around on her. It was quite the conundrum for her. What was she going to do with these strange little things? Maybe she could at least get them to stop painting embarrassing things on her head cap when she slept...

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Halloween ain't Halloween without some Pumpkin Dryads!

Description
When she had been chosen by the tribe and sent off, she had no quarrels or grievances. After all, it was a decision made for the good of her people and their home. All Conifer Dryads knew this, and many were ready for when that day came. In time, that day arrived for her tribe, when they had too many members for them to support and the lottery was drawn for who would be sent off. As one who had not married or bred, she was high on the list, and in the end it was her name that was chosen. As per tradition, she was given some supplies, her bow and the three arrows, and was sent off into the wilderness. Her experience as a hunter helped her acquire food and fur, but she knew that she could not survive the harsh winter alone. She would need to find another group to join up with, or at least seek warmer lands. In the end, she chose the latter, and headed to the south. Surely down there, where the winter was a bit tamer, she could find a purpose and place. Much to her pleasure, she picked up the tracks of a nomadic group of dryads, and she followed the trail. A nomad's life was one she was quite used to, and she felt that she would fit right in with this mysterious group. With her superb tracking skills, she located these dryads and made contact. Though she had never ventured beyond the frozen north in her past, she had heard tales of dryads elsewhere. These particular ones, though, were quite new to her.

First of all, they were much shorter than she expected, hardly taller than the saplings back home. They also had these weird colored head caps, which didn't seem helpful for protecting from claws and teeth or for headbutting said beasts. The strangest thing of all, though, was their carefree attitudes. She had seen saplings with more maturity than these individuals, as they constantly cracked jokes, goofed off and made nuisances of themselves. How had these creatures survived so many years with these unprofessional ways? How was throwing manure at random travelers in any way helpful to their well being? Seeing these childish antics, she figured she could do this small group a favor by joining them and teaching them real skills and discipline. Goofy as they were, they at least welcomed her to their "tribe" warmly and enthusiastically. That, however, was the last real positive thing she could say about them at the moment. It seemed her attempts at training and lessons were not being taken seriously, and they always had a way of turning things around on her. It was quite the conundrum for her. What was she going to do with these strange little things? Maybe she could at least get them to stop painting embarrassing things on her head cap when she slept...

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Halloween ain't Halloween without some Pumpkin Dryads!