Mom wants me over for dinner and I could not be dreading it more.

  On the one claw, yeah, she's my mother. The nymph who raised me, taught me to fight, etc. etc. etc.. But also, I know as soon as I walk into that den it's going to be my teenage self's living nightmare all over again.

  Her den is a small grove of manipulated trees, their branches woven together to ward off unwanted creatures. It's wide and has an open sky to let in sunlight. I saunter in through the round entrance and step onto the soft dirt on the other side. The open floor space hasn't changed much since I moved out a few months ago. Stones separate the "rooms," marking off the garden area, dining area, and sleeping places. Smaller and more private rooms are built into the wall around the clearing, which is where Mom or Dad always escape to when they've had a spat.

  Thorn isn't here yet, so I bathe in the temporary silence. I clamber up my personal rock, a stone covered in ivy jutting out of what used to be my old room, and crouch atop it. The sun is out, so I take a moment to drink it in and photosynthesize.

  Within seconds, my mother emerges from one of the private rooms. She spots me instantly, sharp brown eyes glinting almost gold in the sunlight. Like me, her horns are wooden and her skin leaf green. Though, her tail is thinner and lacks the mossy overcoat mine has, a trait I inherited from my father. It swings under her dress of plant fibers as she walks. She approaches me, gracefully stepping over the stone separator marking the old room.

  "Thistle," she begins. "So nice to see you again." Her voice lacks mirth, but that's typical for her.

  "Same to you, Mom." I adjust my position, crossing my legs beneath my grass skirt.

  "Come help with dinner." Without another exchange, she whips around, marching back to the garden area.

  I stifle an eye roll and jump down to follow her. I hoped if I arrived late enough, Thorn might get sucked into dinner duties, too. But as usual, he's even later than me. How obnoxious.

  We pluck vegetables from the garden for dinner, mostly green beans from low bushes and a few carrots from the ground. Any human would probably wash the dirt off them, but we like them better this way. The soil is good for us and it's quite tasty. I snag a few blueberries for dessert, too, throwing them into a wooden bowl.

  "Well, look who it is!" A familiar voice shouts from across the clearing. Thorn bounds up to the garden, his thin tail whipping behind him. His horns are long and smooth, and his hair wild. He immediately plucks some blueberries out of the bowl, munching on them while I continue to pick. "You really oughtta visit more often. It gets boring without you here."

  I smack his hand away from the blueberries. Thorn is a year younger than me, so he hasn't reached the age where he has his own territory yet. Not that I would trust him with any amount of land. "Shut your trap and help gather some food."

  "Ohhh, I'd love to, but, uh, shouldn't somebody get Dad?" He points behind himself noncommittally. "Yeah, that's what I'll do! I'll go find Dad. Where's he at, Mom?"

  "Right here!" Dad's grand vibrato enters the conversation, a bit too loud for my liking. He emerges from one of the private rooms in the wall and walks up to me. Then, he scoops me into a hug, swinging me left and right.

  "Put me down!" The blueberry bowl slips from my claws, spilling to the floor. "Dad!"

  He finally drops me. I dust myself off and glare at him.

  He's taller than any of us, his tail thick and his build bulky. His hair is autumn yellow and cut short, and his skin red like a fallen leaf.

  I gesture to the spilled blueberries, which are now scattered all across the garden. "I was gathering!"

  He just laughs. "And so dutifully, too! You are going to make some nymph very happy one day when you pair up."

  The thought of clawing him crosses my mind. I curb my temper and gather up the lost blueberries, painstakingly picking them from the floor, all the while Dad and Thorn continue to chat. When I'm through, I brush past them and toward our dining area. It's a collection of smooth rocks around a low, naturally grown wooden table.

  Mom is already sitting down, waiting impatiently for dinner to begin. I sit across from her. Thorn hops up on a rock next to me and Dad across from him, forming a square.

  Dad glances at Mom, but she only regards him coldly. It seems since I moved out, things haven't improved between them. They haven't bloomed flowers for each other in years. Most couples, young and old, have at least a few lingering petals when they're around each other. Not Mom and Dad.

  "How's the territory, pumpkin?" Dad asks, immediately beginning to eat. We don't really dish up with plates or bowls, instead grabbing food from the table as we see fit. "Kill anything yet?"

  The annoying human I met a few days ago crosses my mind. "I wish." I chew on a carrot. "Nothing really comes around." I pause, wondering if I should tell them about the boy. Better not. "Too close to human territory."

  "Is that so?" Mom looks me up and down. "You reek of pollen."

  I almost choke on my food. "I do not!"

  "Pollen?" Thorn looks at me, his eyes wide. "Thistle, have you been blooming flowers?!"

  "No!" I vehemently deny their words, as if it will do any good. "Like I said, nobody's even come around."

  "It is that time of year," Dad mumbles. "And you are young. The first year out of the den is usually turbulent. It's to be expected."

  "Thistle's got a boyfriend, Thistle's got a boyfriend!" Thorn begins to chant. He reaches over and pokes me with a claw over and over again.

  My horns sharpen instinctively, and prickles start to form on my arms. "I don't."

  "Did you scare him off?" Thorn smirks at me. "Is that why you're so embarrassed? Missed your chance to kiss and pollinate?" He makes an obnoxious kissy face with his mouth.

  I lunge at Thorn, tackling him to the ground and digging my claws into his shoulder. We wrestle for a moment, slashing and snarling.

  Now, I know this sudden act of violence sounds bad, but nymphs don't really bleed and injure all that easily. Certainly not like animals or humans do. Thorn and I fight all the time. He knows how to push my buttons, and just once, I'd like to give him a scar that'll make him think twice about mocking me.

  Mom's heavy claw pulls me off of him, and I shoot her a glare.

  Thorn stands and dusts himself off, examining the scratches I've made in his plant-like skin. "You're so dramatic. Why can't you take a joke?"

  Fury boils within me. I know retaliation will only make things worse. So, I hold it in, figuring I'll just scratch up a dead tree later to make me feel better.

  I sit on my rock and grab the entire bowl of blueberries for myself.

  "Your brother's right," Mom says, dooming me to this conversation. "You really must learn to control your temper."

  "But you taught me to be tough!" I snap. "You told me not to take anyone's mulch!" I haven't forgotten years of grueling training so easily. When am I going to hear, "Wow, Thistle, that was so impressive, the way you clawed him! Just like how I taught you! You're so capable and intimidating, I'm proud to have you as my daughter!"

  The wishful thought hangs over me. I feel myself beginning to wilt, and have to blink rapidly to keep my eyes clear. No, not now, not in front of them.

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  "You'll never find a mate if you keep lashing out," she continues. "I raised you to be tough, but I also taught you to be civil."

  I will not cry over something this stupid. But nature rot it, why won't they just shut up?

  Dad joins the conversation. "She's got a point. You are a bit on the feisty side. Great for defending territory, not so much for relationships."

  Rather than letting myself sink into despair, I fix my face into a glare.

  "Yeah, Thistle, do better," Thorn adds infuriatingly. "Don't want to scare off your next boyfriend, do you?"

  Stupid. They're all so stupid. The blueberries, the bickering, the insults and jabs and lectures—It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. I shouldn't be this upset. But everything just builds and builds and makes me feel like a creaking tree that's about to fall over and crash onto all of them.

  It's a low blow, but I pull out the only method I have of diverting attention from myself. "So, when are you moving out, Thorn?"

  Dad brightens, and Thorn shrinks. "We've found some lovely territory along a river," Dad begins. "Unclaimed and everything! Why, it should be perfect to—"

  Thorn shoots me a glare, and I hit back with a smirk. Two can play the obnoxious sibling game. You prod me about my relationships, I prod you about your future.

  Despite my petty revenge, I'm still mad when I get home. Mad at Thorn, mad at Mom, mad at Dad.

  They never take me seriously. When I get mad, there's always an incoming lecture. Never a comment about Thorn's antagonizing behavior. Never a question about what's beneath all this anger. Never a realization that my outbursts barely account for a fraction of my true feelings.

  As always, I'm left wondering if I should have let those tears slip out, after all. Maybe if they saw how I really felt, they'd be a little gentler.

  No. Mom would just tell me to suck up. It's how it's always been, how it will always be.

  I storm through my woods, patrolling the perimeter. My territory is a small section of forest bordered by human land, ending at a dirt road that a few brave wagons sometimes travel. I watch it briefly from afar before pulling back into the trees.

  I wish I could fight something. Kill something. That would make me feel better. That would make me feel in control.

  On cue, a whispering from the trees catches my attention. Something large is traveling through my forest. The trees murmur about it in the language of nature. I gleefully sharpen my claws and make my way towards it. Before long, I can hear the rustling myself, and the clumsy brushing of leaves and branches indicative of an intruder.

  I charge through the trees, not stalking first like I did last time. But before I can sink my claws into whatever is there, I falter.

  That stupid human with the dumb green strip of hair whips around to face me. Why him? Why now?

  "I told you not to come back!" I snarl. "What are you doing here?"

  "I-I'm sorry." He's clutching that book again. "I just came back to find more of those blue flowers. I didn't finish the sketch, and there aren't any on the human side of the woods."

  My tail lashes. "You think I care?"

  He blinks. "Do you?"

  "No!"

  "Oh..." He looks around. "Could I...just go over and reference one? I promise I won't bother you. I won't disturb a single plant! Please?"

  I growl, my tail lashing even harder. Then I pace around, flexing my claws.

  "You seem upset," he says slowly. "Am I making you angry?"

  "No. I mean yes!" I turn to him. He's just as dim as the rest of my family. Like them, he doesn't understand. Yet...

  Something about the way he looks and talks is so disarming, so unintentional. His comments are far from the antagonistic type I'm used to. They're driven by some bizarre curiosity, not judgment.

  I can't wrap my head around it. I can't wrap my head around him.

  "Um, I can go, then." He inches away. "Sorry to bother you."

  I let out a long, strained sigh. "No. Don't."

  He pauses in surprise, looking at me. "Really?"

  "If you leave, I know you'll just be back again later." I lower my claws and smooth my hair. A few traitorous flowers come loose. "I'll show you the stupid plant. Better than having you stumble around my territory, anyways."

  The human smiles, forcing out a few more flowers. "Thank you!" He paces toward me.

  I stick out my arm and stop him by the shoulder before he can get too close. "First of all, you stand this far away from me or more. You understand?"

  He nods with uncertainty.

  I whip around and start into the forest. I listen to the gossip of the woods, only slightly interrupted by the sound of bumbling behind me. When I hear the proud voice of the viperweed, I steer towards it, bounding into a run and leaping over rocks and plants.

  I find one poking out from a patch of clovers in a spot of evening sunlight and stop in front of it. The human gasps for breath behind me.

  "Here's your dumb flower." I point to it and sit back on the clovers. "Sketch away, or whatever."

  He nods and flips to a page in his notebook, starting right away.

  Before I can stare at his face too hard, I fix my eyes on the trees around us. "What did you say your name was again?"

  "Jade!" he offers enthusiastically. "Like the gemstone, or the plant."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Do you have a name?"

  What a dumb question. Do I have a name? Has he met many nymphs without names? Whatever. "Thistle."

  "Thistle!" he repeats. "That's a cool name. Very fitting."

  I keep my eyes on the trees, but continue to yank out whatever flowers form at his words. His comment sent another wave, peppering my green hair pink. "Y-yeah. It is cool."

  We sit in silence for a bit. The sound of Jade's sketching backdrops chirping birds and leaves rustling in the wind.

  Curiosity gets the better of me. "That encyclid—that book you're working on," I begin slowly.

  "My encyclopedia?"

  "Yeah, that. What is it, anyways?"

  His face brightens. Saccharinely cute. I might throw up. "It's going to be an up-to-date catalog of all the plants in this forest! It'll have all sorts of information and facts, plus pictures. Where they can be found, what they can be used for, whether or not they're edible or safe to touch, stuff like that. Anything we can cram in there, really."

  Huh. That doesn't sound like a terrible idea. If I didn't have the ability to naturally understand plants, it would probably be a lifesaver. I examine my claws in a bored way. "Sounds lame."

  Jade wilts.

  "But I guess—" Ugh, what am I saying? "I guess it could be useful. Y'know, for you creatures that are less attuned to nature. Not that you should be out in these woods anyway," I grumble.

  "Do you want to see my notes?" Jade approaches without waiting for my answer, tiptoeing around the flower.

  I stand and step back. "Hey, what did I say about personal space?!"

  "Right, right. Sorry." He flips to a page in the book, standing a few feet away, and turns it around so I can see. The page has a very well-drawn rendition of the viperweed from different angles. It's surrounded by scribbled notes, impossible to read from my distance.

  I squint at it, then tentatively step closer to get a better look. "That's your handwriting?" The letters barely look like they're from the human alphabet. "What does it say?"

  He turns the book around and shuffles close enough so we can both see. I glare at him, but don't protest. Just this once.

  "These are my notes on where it grows." He points to a scribbled paragraph in the top corner. "It looks like it prefers a lot of sun, as these ones thrive in places where they won't be shadowed in the mornings or evenings." He drags his finger down to another chicken scratch paragraph. "And here I wrote a question about how they propagate. The bees seem to avoid them, from what I've seen. They swarm every flower around here but this one. It's important to have questions ready so we know what to look for in future research."

  I inch away from him, but not too far. "And you're writing this all by yourself?"

  "Oh, gosh, no. I'm just a research assistant and the artist." He turns his head in my direction. "My superior's doing most of the actual writing based off our combined notes. She knows more about plants than anyone else I know."

  "Hm." I stand up straight. "Well, for your information, the bees aren't really avoiding this plant. Viperweeds are pollinated early in the spring, so they've almost reached the end of their cycle by now. You just missed the few weeks where the bugs swarmed them like any other plant."

  Jade rushes to add a note in his book. "I didn't know that!"

  "Obviously."

  He gets an odd look on his face after scribbling something down. "Hey, you must know a lot about plants, right?"

  "Yeah. So?"

  "Especially the ones in your territory?"

  "Duh."

  "Would you...um..." He spins his pencil in his hand. "Could you maybe look over our incomplete notes? We could really use your help."

  I already knew he was considering it, but I didn't think he'd be dumb enough to ask. "Are you dense?" I flash my claws at him. "I'm a forest nymph! I can't exactly waltz into your village, nor do I want to. Besides, what would your superior say? I doubt most humans are as calm around us as you are."

  "She doesn't have to know." He bounces slightly on the balls of his feet. "And you wouldn't have to go anywhere! I could bring the notes to you, and all you'd have to do is point out what's right or wrong."

  No, this is a bad idea. This human shouldn't be spending any more time in my territory than he already is! I don't need this secret little crush of mine growing out of control. "No."

  He stops his bouncing, clearly curbing a frown. "Ah...yeah, you're probably right. I did say I wouldn't bother you anymore. Sorry."

  "Well..." Ugh, why can't I stick with one answer? Being around this human saps my good judgment. I cross my arms and look away. "Maybe if you didn't stay too long, I could give you some pointers."

  And just like that, his attitude is back on. "Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me."

  Yuck, gross, don't say that. I yank more flowers out of my hair. In our proximity, they had grown completely out of control. I'm sure half my head must be pink by now. When I look at him, I catch him staring. "What?!" I snap.

  "N-nothing. I was just wondering something."

  I narrow my eyes. "Which is?"

  "Those flowers in your hair...do they propagate, too?"

  Thorns sharpen around my body. "You can't just ask a nymph if her flowers propagate!" My voice cracks. "Sweet flora, is your brain made of garden mulch?"

  He turns red, and crumples like a dried leaf. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be vulgar."

  "Shut up!" I claw petals loose. "Now get out of here! Scram!"

  Jade stumbles back through the trees. "Are we still on about the advice thing?"

  "If you never ask anything like that again, we are!" I shout. Before I even see him leave, I climb a tree and bound away, jumping from branch to branch. My embarrassment lingers even when he's out of my sight.