“I’m sorry, lass. I’ve no place here in my tree for the likes of you,” said the goblin.
“I’ve nowhere to go, and night is coming. You can’t leave me out here to die,” pleaded the flower.
“Only for the night, at first light, you’re out the door. Understand?” the goblin said.
The flower dropped her head and gave a slow nod.
“I’ve got chores to attend to, so make yourself at home,” remarked the goblin as he left his tree.
“At least there’s a chance of success,” muttered the flower after the goblin had gone.
The goblin’s snores covered the flowers’ movement as she opened the door and let in her sisters.
“We must strike tonight or face doom, said the flower.
The fauna surrounded the goblin’s bed, then all at once they shook their heads. Poisonous dust filled the air, and soon the goblin breathed in the poison.
“What have you done to me?” cried the goblin as he choked and wheezed.
“What we fauna should have done long ago, reclaimed our home,” hissed the flowers.
The goblin struggled to reach the fresh air. The plants blocked the way with clouds of dust. The kindly old creature slumped over and was motionless.
“Come, sisters, on to the next dwelling. Our seedlings will thrive in his troll flesh. This boning old one will nourish the young ones as well,” mocked the flower.
After depositing their seeds on the goblin, the flowers left to seek their next host.
“The forest will soon be in full bloom. It will be as it was before,” cried the flower. She led the others down the path to the next dwelling.
It was quiet in the forest in the days that followed. The fauna liked it that way.
Folksburywoods 
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