The Sentinels rot until the weeds are grown

Open to anyone! Maybe an Ironsea wolf ;)

He couldn't shake the encounter with Screech from his mind as much as he tried to. That single, golden eye completely devoid of spirit and soul had been burned into his memory. The boy had changed and seemed beyond saving, beyond recognition of what used to be Screech. Those wretched Redhawks had done something to him. As much as he despised his former friend, his anger had shifted. His family were still just as bad as the one they cast out.

The Cairn paced silently through the charred and long dead remains of what once could have been considered a mighty forest. Unknown to even himself, Redshank had been here once before, when the trees still stood tall. The moment hadn't lasted long, and the very fire that extinguished life from this place was the same one that had uprooted his own life.

Oblivious to the significance of the area, the boy trudged onwards aimlessly, picking his way over the fallen giants and their gnarled roots. Here and there, he was able to catch signs of life — a sprig of green peeking through the pale deadwood, the distant sound of a bird call — but he had a feeling the forest would not be able to support much else.

So he continued northwards.