---

Great creaks and crashed were carried to him over the winds from his place in the Weald. He wanted to explore, hopefully not running into other unsavory characters. Maybe he'd go as far as the ocean.
For now, though, he sought for the source of the sounds of destruction and turmoil. Following the howlings of wind and ashy scent. There wasn't fire, he knew that much. But at some point, there had been.
How many decimated sites were there?

He picked his way into the charred woodland, casting a wary glance upwards to the teetering treetops. Around him lay the crumbled remains of what was once a proud home. 
Now, it was nothing worthwhile.
More creaking and screams echoed from the trees, earning another wary look upward. He wasn't happy under their skeletal arms and damaged legs. 
A harsh gust of salted air charged towards him through the trees -- he leaped backward before the branch threw itself down before him with another tremendous crash, smaller branches flew from the main vessel and scattered around the site.

He cowed low, eyes wide and breathing hard. He should run. His legs refused.
He sat crouched, staring at the branch as if it were a bear before him about to swipe down and detach his head from the body.

---