The Heartwood the wolf and the lion

Fire was a foreign concept to October, but she had heard stories of the tremendous disaster it could leave in its wake. Her mother, Orleans, had told her of a time when a mountain in her homeland had spewed rock and fire into the sky, engulfing the valley and all those who were not quick enough to escape. Fire consumed and destroyed everything it touched, Orleans had said. When October came the charred woodlands, she remembered her mother’s words.
 
The deeper she wandered into the wood, the more darkened and desolate everything became. She regarded the scorched trees with wary apprehension, ears twisted back against her skull as she trudged on. Frightening images of the sort of fiery hell it would have taken to consume such a vast forest filled the young female’s mind, and she quickened her step in hopes of exiting the woodland sooner.
 
The discovery of another wolf captured her interest, however, as she’d assumed she’d been the only one foolish enough to venture into the singed remains of what had once been a great forest. He was dark like the soot that blanketed the trees and earth, and he stood above the charcoaled remains of another creature. “You must be the dragon whose fiery breath burnt down these woods!” she lilted towards him, grinning as her ears tipped forward to catch his response.