What do I want?
Slowly, I began to wither. First, my green leaves fell off one by one; then came my branches, with their epidermis abrupt and without a trace of moisture; my blood stopped flowing, and I felt that my roots were soaked by the stream of the purple bamboo forest and were on the verge of ulceration. I feel like I'm dying. This is a thought that I often want to have but dare not think deeply about in the valley where no one is with me. Now, I finally feel it.
The black bear spirit comes to visit me every day, and he is very anxious.
"What's wrong with you? What's wrong with you?"
"I'm going to die." I looked at the black bear spirit and said sadly.
He stretched out his arms to hug me. He opened his mouth several times to say something but no words came out, but his eyes gradually turned red. Yeah, what should I say? He doesn't know. People are always going to die, and so are tree demons.
Intention: I want a heart, a human heart.