The Heartwood setting fires to keep you warm

Fog hung like a curtain of smoke around the charred tree trunks. Those that still remained were scarred, their bark and branches blackened and cracked from the heat. The warm light of the rising sun cast the woodland in an eerie orange glow, its sight reminiscent of the fire that had ravished the Heartwood years ago.

Draven took his time strolling through the quiet wasteland of ash and cinders, enjoying the warmth of the sun stroking down his back on such a crisp autumn morning. Slowly his dark charcoal form weaved through the graveyard of trees, leaving behind a trail of large paw prints pressed into the dark, rich dirt. Amongst the rubble, a small stream still trickled its way through the devastation. Filtered through rock and earth, the water was fresh and free of debris, though it appeared deceptively murky.

The male snaked his way forwards for a drink, his silver eyes studying its dark depths for a moment before he pressed his lips to the cold surface to quench his thirst.

Tags for reference.   :)

"Katavra," her mother had said as their family gathered to bid their crimson fledgling a fond farewell, "you'll be careful out there, won't you?"

She was not the first of the dragoness' cubs to fly the nest, and would surely not be the last. This one, however, the first of her second brood, had always been too brash for her own good. Durnehviir worried that her daughter might overstep her boundaries and provoke a hostile reaction.

While the Alphess fretted for her yearling's safety, Tavra was too busy cringing at the formality of her forename. She'd reduced her own moniker as soon as she could voice such a preference, and associated Katavra with getting into trouble- which happened more often than she cared to admit. She wanted to curl her lip at her dam, bark her offence at her, but she was quick to remind herself of the purpose behind that gathering: it could be the final one.

Tavra had no regrets in leaving her birthplace. Instead, she embraced the taste of freedom she'd so longed for and welcomed each new day with unbridled enthusiasm. She'd met so many wonderful acquaintances (as well as some unsavoury ones!) and looked forward to reacquainting with her big brother, @Akavir.

She padded quietly through an unfamiliar woodland, ginger ears alert and copper eyes searching through the haze for anything she should be concerned about. The blackened tree bark made her curious and the she-wolf paused here and there to test for strange scents, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Having never experienced the devastation of fire, the young Frostfur-Mayfair failed to appreciate how the heartwood had suffered.

"Hey!" Tavra called out in a cheerful greeting as she identified a dark figure within the mist, and picked her way across rugged terrain to get a better look at him from the opposite edge of the stream. She offered a friendly sway of her snow-tipped tail and her brightest smile; "pretty creepy here, huh?"

The woodland, seemingly devoid of life, was hauntingly quiet. The familiar rustle of small creatures creeping amongst the leaflitter and the singsong calls of tiny birds which normally bounced around the treetop branches had been stripped, along with much of the lush green vegetation, when the fire had raged through the territory. The only sound that remained was that of the wind, whistling eerily through the branches of the blackened trees, along with the gentle bubbling of the stream which Draven now lapped at.

Eventually though, another sound caused his dark ears to prick suddenly. The sound of approaching footfall could be heard, though the haze of fog made it difficult for the young male to spot who was closing in on him. Lifting his lips from the water, he raised his nose to the air and inhaled deeply, catching the scent of another wolf on the wind. Unsure of the strangers intentions, Draven squared his feet defensively and scanned the fog for movement.

A flash of ginger fur caught his attention first. Silver eyes narrowed on it, suspicious for a moment, before the female's cheerful greeting reached his ears and immediately put him at ease. Draven's posture relaxed and he returned her friendly gesture with a neutral sway of his own tail and a polite smile. He tilted his head slightly at her suggestion. "Not so much, now that you're here." A single corner of his charcoal lips curled upwards just a little bit, hinting at his boyish thoughts as he eyed her. "What's your name?" He asked boldly, relaxing down to sit with his forepaws resting at the very edge of the stream which seperated them for now.

The stranger lifted his dark muzzle to look in her direction, and his response to her greeting was just as merry. Tavra's copper eyes glimmered at his attempt to flatter her, which was enough for her interest in him to bloom. She swept her bright gaze over him briefly, immediately liking what she saw and felt the pull to further explore this new intrigue.

She watched him settle on the opposite bank of the misted shore, but did lower her own haunches. She remained rooted in her place, suddenly aware of her own appearance and fearful of not being as appealing to her newest acquaintance as he was to her.

"Tavra," she answered with a soft bat of her lashes, "what's yours?"