neonthewrite:

Deep in the woods, past the designated campgrounds, the forest was serene, all but glowing with verdant life. Birds sang to each other and fluttered their wings in mock chases. Squirrels, fat from campers always feeding them, spiraled around rough trunks of oak trees or curled up in the smooth branches of birch. Ferns and foliage carpeted the ground, broken up by narrow deer trails that meandered like arteries in the greater living thing that the forest truly was. Golden sunshine lit up motes of pollen floating lazily in the air.

Among the peaceful scene, grunts of pain and discomfort barely broke into the tranquil sound. A voice smaller than the chatters of a squirrel muttered something, and then huffed in frustration. Its source hung from a tree branch, suspended in a net of thin, earthy-colored ropes.