He watched from the shadows as they came with their machines and their axes and their ropes, cutting and grabbing and pulling. The tree groaned and shrieked, but they kept on, tearing at it until it toppled in a storm of green needles. They cheered, their voices carrying through the still air to the silent place where he waited, folded like origami in the dark.
They had broken the deal, these little humans, the deal sealed long ago with an acorn and old bones. The living contract was being hauled across cement, dragged away to be unceremoniously hacked apart, all just to build another parking lot, another cold temple to commercialism.
He tapped knife-sharp nails together as he unfolded from his hiding place, slipping from shadow to shadow, unseen by living eye.
They had broken the contract and now he was free to do as he pleased.
Word Count: 147
This is for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Thanks to Priceless Joy for running the challenge and Shivangi Singh for providing the prompt photo!