Some may call it a mere accident, but the trees who whistled their warnings might say otherwise.

Their leaves shook in a loud, crying plea to any animal. Oh, how much they wanted them to understand. Yet every night they’d watch those poor creatures wander past their gates, not able to do anything but scream. The sound was always muffled, like yelling into a pillow. A noise of dispair, yet something others are unable to place.

The night was darker than most, only the stars dotted the sky. The moon left the world in the trees care.

If only they didn’t fail.

The first tree that spotted the raccoons brightly ringed tail was quick to cry out, whistling and waving their branches, but alas, they weren’t noticed.

The second and third tree continued the train, but even the tallest, loudest tree lost hope. The raccoon could hear none of them.

They all wanted to close their eyes as they watched him wander closer and closer.

But they couldn’t.

They had to watch.

Squeal!

Bam!

Tears dripped on the leaves, drops of dew that would last until the morning sun comforted them.

The forest shook at the loss, but the trees just watched and cried.

That’s all they could do, really.

They watched the scene somberly, a woman got out of the car and knelt down next to the raccoon in the headlights. She stroke his fur as he took shaky, hopeless breaths.

“It’s okay.” Her voice was high-pitched and mournful. “You’re going to a better place. I promise.”

The trees chimed in with their agreement.

Then she plunged a knife into the raccoons chest.