Becky, a seemingly innocent gardener, moved gracefully among the trees, her fingers brushing against the bark with a tenderness that belied her true nature. Her eyes, a deep shade of green, reflected the lushness around her as she knelt beside an ancient tree, whispering to it softly. "Your time has come, old friend," she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow.

Becky felt the familiar pang of hunger deep within her, a primal need that she couldn't ignore. Her hands, now clawed and gnarled, dug into the earth, finding the roots of the tree she had been tending. "Forgive me," she sighed, as her monstrous form devoured the energy of the tree, leaving it a hollow shell.

Becky struggled with the duality of her existence—the love for the forest that sustained her, and the pain of knowing she was its destroyer. Tears welled in her eyes, glistening like morning dew. "Why am I cursed to love and destroy in equal measure?" she lamented to the silent trees.

Becky rose to her feet, determination replacing her despair. She knew she had to find a balance, to nurture the forest while managing her monstrous hunger. "I will find a way to preserve what I love," she vowed, her voice filled with resolve.

Becky walked among the trees, planting new saplings where the old ones had fallen. Her touch was gentle, her care evident in every movement. Though her nature was unchanged, her heart was set on a new path. "Tomorrow is a new beginning," she whispered, as the jungle settled into the peaceful embrace of night.

Becky sat quietly, watching over her beloved forest. Though her hunger would return with the dawn, she found solace in the knowledge that she was not alone in her struggle. "I am part of this cycle, both its curse and its blessing," she acknowledged, as the night wrapped her in its tranquil embrace.