The First Tree in the Thick Forests

[Moonlit Fang]

[[This story is entered for the ~ Thick Forest ~ compartment.]]

In the times of the Peaceful War, there was a very long, flat plain, covered with cockroaches and beetles and little tufts of messy, floppy grass, that would never grow taller or wider, and was content to stay where it was. One day, however, The Left Side of the Peaceful War intruded in this ruined meadow, and came upon the miserable plants and insects.
"Why, you all are clearly very broken," the warriors murmured persuasively.
"Yes, yes," they whispered back. Their language was rough; they hadn't spoke in forever.
"May we ask who did this to you?"
The people of the flatland were confused. "No?..."
The Left Side backed away, taken aback by this strange behavior.
A month later, the Right Side of the Peaceful War came across the plains. "Such a barren, empty place!" they exclaimed, their white eyes opening wide with surprise.
"Give us life," the meadows murmured back. "We're dying out here. There's no rain, and no sun, and the bugs come and feed on us. Give us life."
Being the Right Side, they were scared by the inviting words.
The plants were very put out with the Lefts and Rights. They set out to bring the Lefts and Rights together. Combined, they would help the grasses, and then the meadows would be blossoming with growth. The beetles' feedings were coming soon; they needed something now. The next battle was planned to be on the stable ground, but the grasses would try to grow, and grow, to stop it, and if they continued to fight all would be lost, and if they stopped, they would surely get together, to battle the grass. But in that time, the grass would shrink, by the will of Peces, the god of peace.
The Right and Left began to consult with their strategists. In five minutes, the war had begun, but the grass had grown eighteen feet tall, and the men could not see each other being blocked by such thick and tall plants in their path.
Many warriors swore an oath, but backed off. Finally the plain was as before; the grass had shrunk to its original size. It was nearly the beetles' feedings; time was running out.
There was suddenly a battle cry, but there was not the clang of chain mail or the cling of swords smashing together. There was a whir and splat, until the plants realized the men were all fighting the beetles! There were bug parts spilling all over the ground, until the fighters held up their heavy weapons, and cried a cry of triumph.
Everything was fine after the gruesome battles that were now far in the past. The Lights (Lefts and Rights together) granted the meadow two gifts:
"We, the Lefts, grant this Barren Meadow a tall, sturdy trunk with lots of leaves to soak up the sun and keep the bugs off."
"We, the Rights, grant this Barren Meadow a set of roots, to get the moisture from the deepest parts of the soil and to claim the land for their own."
And henceforth, the first tree was born, and after that many, many more, and to this day the Barren Meadow is now the Thick Forests, with tall, wide trunks, long, strong roots, and many green leaves.