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Write a story from the POV of someone (or something) living in a forest.

Posted in Short Story on Sep 12, 2025

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✍️ 62 stories

Toad

Submitted to Contest #320

Deep in the gloam of an enchanted forest, a lone toad crouched among the reeds of a marsh, soaking up the fragile warmth of a fading sunbeam. Atop a mossy rock, two warty eyes surveyed its stagnant kingdom. Secluded and cool, the wetland provided plenty of lush vegetation along its soft and quaggy banks. Toad’s life was comfortable. Each day, he enjoyed a delectable banquet, feasting on the dragonflies, beetles, spiders, and woodlice that burrowed and slithered and buzzed near the water’s murky surface. Most of his days were spent swimming...

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WE ARE THE SISTERS OF THE GROVE

Submitted to Contest #320

A forest tale told in the voices of three Nymphs-Ashen, Liri and ThistleASHENI speak first because I am the eldest and the trees listen best to me. My roots are deep-not in soil but in knowing. I do not move quickly. I do not speak often. But when I do, the moss hushes, and the wind stills. We are not guardians in the way humans imagine. No swords.No spells. We do not fight. We endure. The forest is not a place. It is a rhythm. A breath. A long, slow exhale. I tend the rhythm. I walk the perimeter each dusk, touching bark, whispering to the ...

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Herman of the Forest

Submitted to Contest #320

The sun rose as it did each day, but this time it bothered him. That means he needs to fix the roof today, at least before it rains again. He rolled over and off the hay that he used as a bed. He pulled back the black blanket that covered the window and looked. He heard footfalls. Someone was out there. Someone was nearing his house. He stared out until he saw them. Three men, all armed with rifles, dressed in camouflage, and all wearing blaze orange hats. One man also had a vest that was a bit too big for him, which made him look like a wal...

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The Last Canoe

Submitted to Contest #320

The Russian River flows through the heart of Sonoma County in California It is also home to one of the last surviving Sequoia Redwood forests in the country. Rio Nido is a two miles east of Guerneville where diversity and individuality are celebrated. Six miles east of Rio Nido is a canoe rental place that does a vigorous business during the summer when the tourist mob the place to explore the scenic wonders of the redwoods. I saw her waving in my rearview mirror as I pulled out of her apartment driveway. Five years ago, I came home to mar...

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Run

Submitted to Contest #320

“Damn fires!” Eeva, the little gnome’s wife, scowled at him as she ran. “Watch your tongue, Fen. And watch your head! Come on, Sphinx, harness up!” The ant pulled the spun leaf over its antennae, and with their wee belongings, the three flew down the shoot under their mushroom. Whenever they moved, they built tunnels for survival, which they’d had to use many times. They’d also created games to play as they ran. “Peony Palace!” whisper-yelled Fen. “Magnolia Manor!” whisper-yelled Eeva, holding Sphinx’s reins. “Click, click!” clicked Sphinx, ...

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Rotten Core

Submitted to Contest #320

The forest was peaceful today. A light breeze swept across the brazen earth, sending leaves fluttering through the cool air. The songbirds were lightly singing to one another as a singular woodpecker was pecking, and the squirrels were quarreling over acorns, their ferocious squabbles echoing through the trees. As the sun began to sink in the late afternoon sky–basking the tips of the trees in warm golden hues–I heard them. Their giggles reached me from afar. My mood was instantly soured. I reached out to my brethren, stretching my roots, co...

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The Little Gest of Robin Hood

W B

Submitted to Contest #320

“Another great day chaps! These linens should fetch a fair few shillings and the salt fish should keep us going for the next week.” Little John smiled merrily in his saddle as he fletched a bundle of sticks to add to the endless pile of arrows bulging in his quiver. Ever the multitasker, he was eyeing up the wagon besides him. It seemed to creek with the weight of the fabrics they’d liberated from the merchants on the King’s Road. Based on some crude calculations, the profits would keep the poorhouse going for at least a month – perhaps ther...

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Rosebud

Submitted to Contest #320

The bud is shut, and I'm not sure how to open it. I'm not supposed to, I think. The rosebud is smooth and green, half as large as I am, with a thin line where it should open. I tap on it, but nothing happens. A crisp smell, like the first scent of spring, permeates the area around the door. I run my fingernails along the seam, trying to find an easy opening. Nothing. I hesitate. I should wait. I'll come back tomorrow to see if the bud is ready to be opened. Grasping the flower’s stem, I twirl, dance from leaf to leaf, and beckon to a passing...

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Endless Summer

Submitted to Contest #320

The forest had a heartbeat. Underneath the bark of trees, underneath the soil of dirt, and even underneath the rocks of riverbeds. It was always there. That rhythmic beating made it undeniable that the forest was alive. That It was alive.It took the form of many things: the trees, the dirt, the river. But It found its favorite form was one that mimicked a human—a woman— because it was only when its hair blew wistfully in the wind, when its body was framed by an alabaster dress, that It was considered alive. Considered as something worthy of ...

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Just Below The Surface

Submitted to Contest #320

​The network learned caution from the Great Scorch, a lesson written in ash by the Council of Hubris. In their pride, they used a great asset to fuel a spectacular bloom. The Harvesters saw their crimson city not as life, but as a weed to be sterilized with liquid fire, burning half the network to a sterile crust. The survivors learned a simple truth from the screams of their brothers: the surface is a ceiling, and some ceilings are best left unbroken.​The ashes of that memory still season the substrate, a cautionary tale pulsing through the...

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Two Strangers

Submitted to Contest #320

The forest hums, though most do not know how to hear it. It has always been so obvious to me. The hum is a constant pulse; a thrumming of life forces intertwined with each other. The roots of the ancient oak trees, the winding vines aflush with vibrant blooms, the skittering of animals and insects, the flapping of bird wings, it is all connected. I revel in the hum, soaking it in before the forest notices me and ceases its music. The hum stops only for me. The moment my presence is sensed, the forest goes silent as death. I do no...

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The Unfortunate Death of a Heroic Squirrel

Submitted to Contest #320

Hello. I am a squirrel. I’ve got a poofy tail, four fingers on my front paws and five on my rear paws. A white stripe flows from my chin to my bum. Otherwise, I’m a tannish gray. I like eating seeds and nuts and chittering. I spend my waking hours in trees or on the ground. I live under the canopy of a great forest. The trees have big leaves, reddish brown bark, and grow high into the sky. I like where I live. The big trees protect me from the a-hole birds with large wings and sharp talons. I still deal with the small a-hole birds. Mostly, I...

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Pip and Kip: The Best Gatherers in the Red Tree

Submitted to Contest #320

You wouldn’t be alone if you’ve never heard of the Red Tree. It rests unassumingly, towering over the others, deep in the heart of the oldest forest. Within the Red Tree, you will find a peculiar ecosystem. Not one that particularly benefits anybody - aside from us Grumps, of course. It’s a hidden wonderland, and that’s exactly how we like it. Tucked far away from maps and meddling eyes - here we live out our humble existences, with no clear goal or intention. Just to live, content to slip under the radar of any potential threats that may co...

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Tiny, But Effective-An Alarm System with a Tail

Submitted to Contest #320

Prompt: Write a story from the POV of someone or (something) living in a forest. Prompt: Center your story around a mysterious forest fire, disappearance, or other strange event. Tiny, But Effective-An Alarm System with a Tail I am a mindful creature living among the tall leafy trees, rustic pines, and thick underbrush. I love scurrying about renovating my drey inside the most majestic oak tree within the entire forest. My family, however, by their squawks and barks has expressed that I am acting a little too squirrely for them. But honestl...

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EGGVOLUTION

Submitted to Contest #320

1006 words EGGVOLUTIONBy Gloria Vasquez “HELP! I’m trapped! This hard oval is surrounding me, and I barely have room to move.” My cries echo back in bleak silence.I keep brushing up against the curves of my prison, and there’s no way out. My only comfort is the warmth I feel for hours at a time, when something settles over me. I feel safe, cozy, and protected.Sometimes the soft heat goes away, and I am left colder, exposed to a harshness I can’t understand. I decide to make a bold move and bash my head against the wall that thwarts my ...

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