Bearclaw Valley they connect with the fall of man

astara dreamed of a snowbound day -- grey trees shivering as they huddled together bare in the cold. soft flurries. the smell of ice and pine.

a flare of red; of black coursing after. shadow after flame, darkness after light.

a scene familiar and yet so abstract; when she reached for it, the world shattered and the pieces fell away.

blackness.

a howling void with whispers slithering in and out of her hearing.

she pulled back.

awake.

sunlight pooled through the den. avicus and aventus were both asleep.

she turned to her other side. the den was silent save for the soft sighs of her cubs. somewhere outside the trees stirred, chiming as a gentle wind stole through them. astara watched a beetle as it scaled down the stones. her eyes closed, and she willed for the dream to come again.

it did not return, but astara had another visitor that day -- and when she awoke, she was filled with unusual dread.