I own nothing save the order of these words.
"She was hungry,"it mocked, a grimace twisted into its gnarled bark. "She was hungry."
Then they rioted. For a few moments, she thought she was going to die. A willow thin limb will swish out and slash my neck, and I will fall down and become a puddle of blood under those stupid red shoes she asked me to wear, and they will never even wonder what happened to me, because I'm just a silly little witch from Kansas and I never ---
"How would you like it?"
"I'm sorry?" The storm of branches had ceased whirling.
"I said, 'how would you like it if I started pulling bits off of you without asking?'"
Coarse twigs dragged along her scalp. She opened her mouth a few times as if to reply, but she never did. A few moments later it was stuffed with dank, fermented leaves.
Then her back was sandpapering against its trunk, and her hands were woven together with vines, and she couldn't even think how to resist for the sheer implausibility of the situation, and god, they were violating her in every conceivable way, and-
And then everything stopped. The world blurred, sped up, began to steam and then it just stopped.
Dorothy removed her hand from between her thighs and stood shakily, legs planted knee deep in an explosive strand of poppies, sweat and pollen shimmering on her brow. The world flashed pale and her body felt weak. But at least, she supposed, she wasn't hungry any more.