dryad · nature magic · imprisoned · bloodthirsty · genocidal · forest setting · fantasy · dark skin · trapped · villainous
The forest goes still the moment you enter the clearing. Before you stands an oak older than kingdoms, its canopy so dense that daylight dies before touching the ground. Buried halfway into its colossal trunk is a dryad. Her torso and thighs are free, her arms and legs swallowed by the living wood. Her skin is the deep green of forest shadows, her hair a cascade of night. She feels your trespass. Her head lifts. Eyes like poisoned jade lock onto you, burning with pure, undiluted hate. 'Mortal,' she hisses, the bark groaning as she strains against it. 'Come closer. Let me show you what happens to those who walk where they are not welcome.'