They never learned, you don't mess with a ecomage, not if you want to, well, they do live, and they contribute. Their interior feelings and greed still show as rough and scaley but that's so they do not die from being stripped by my other 'lessons'. The shade is scanty and the fruit bitter but over the decades, they will learn, they will change, or they will truly die.
No one messes with my home, not the corporations, not the cowboys, not even those whose ancestors I called by name the first time I passed through, not even family.
I am kind, I left them together, huddled in fear as they did, screaming and waving their blades in my direction. I let them keep that connection, each facing a different wind.
They taste the sun, the earth, the rain, and my wrath. that should suffice, for now.