(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

Leaving out the corpses I left on the curb, I smiled, "It finds me well."
He smiled back, but sorrow still lay in his eyes. "That's good, friend. Hope
your good fortune continues." He seemed about to turn back to the tree.
"And how's this day find you?"
He shrugged slightly and proffered a bit of a smile. "Fortune finds me well,
though I'm saddened just the same."
"Why's that?"
He patted the tree beside him. "It's the trees, here, in the Hive. They're
dying, friend- and no one cares." Seeing the look on my face, he held his
hands up, as if to silence me for a moment. "It may not matter to some, but
it's important to me. I feel it's a shame to see the last tatters of life and
beauty in this ward left, uncared for, to die. That is why they call me
Mourns-for-Trees. Can you understand that, friend?"
I looked to the tree, "Yes... you're right, it's a sad thing."
He seemed surprised, and blurted out: "Really? Oh! I mean, wonderful!
Perhaps you would..." He paused, and seemed suddenly suspicious. He
recomposed himself, speaking in his usual, slow manner. "In any case, that's
good. I suppose you 'have some questions' for me, now..."
He had been about to say something, "No, not just yet. What is it you were
going to ask?"
For the first time, the man seemed genuinely happy. Beaming, he explained:
"It's difficult for anything to survive here... just look around and you'll see
what I mean, friend. I'm not sure if it's possible for the trees to thrive here,
even if they somehow were to get enough light and clean water..."
"Go on..."
He nodded enthusiastically. "But if enough people care... really want them
to live... I just know they'll survive! They'll turn green again, and flourish!"
It sounded asinine, "What? That makes no sense."
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