In the lush, sun-dappled heart of the forest, the Great Squirrel Tree stood tall—its branches woven like an ancient crown, its trunk riddled with chambers, balconies, and burrows.
It was not just a tree.
It was the tree.
The seat of the Squirrel Empire. The mighty bastion of the fluffy-tailed, peanut-hoarding elite.
Within its grand central chamber, a council of fuzziness convened.
Golden leaves fluttered as a slight breeze passed through, and atop a polished nutwood throne, the Squirrel Emperor, Emperor Nutrius Acornpaw IV, sat with imperial dignity.
His fur shimmered with an almost divine sheen, his monocle glinting in the light of the crystallized dew chandelier.
Flanking him was his wife, Lady Chatterella, whose fur was two shades brighter than his and whose stare could humble even the bravest hawk.
At the base of the throne stood Nibbles, twitching nervously yet standing proud.
