The Tree-House

The vines cascading the long, broken-barked tree were a pale green. Almost lifeless, although the rest of the organic house made up for the disappointment. I looked towards them, the three of them, as if we were the last four people on earth. Six dark black pupils staring at me, my soul.
What I did, wasn't what I wanted... It wasn't what I planned.
In a small town I grew up. The countryside. And with the quaint village I lived in came a discriminational side effect... We were always forgotten.
We were side effects ourselves.
After facing the leaders of our civilization, explaining the rights of our village, we weren't sent out in hiding. This obviously didn't please them. The only village with known importance to the council is the Bindea Village. Sneaky hunters with sharpened and blood-stained weapons.
Eventually escaping from the wrath of the leader that disliked the four of us the most, Trimppat, we found an on tree-house, obviously created by a group of kids.