Ouroboros Spine he has hands like the apocalypse

@West

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It was the unbroken ring of short and squat mountains that initially drew the empyrean into the Spine but it is not what bids him to stay. He sticks to the coniferous forest — or rather what is left of it — the moss and loosen bracken of the once impressive now withering forest soft and spongy under foot. The Spine is almost nothing more than a massive mud pit of which a lake has swallowed near all of the forest. A small, pertinacious bit remains but Mato cannot help but wonder for how long? How long can it keeps it’s defiance against nature? Mud covers up to mid-leg and stains the ends of his belly fur from where he wades through it to reach his destination. The forest offers some protection from sinking and sucking mud but not much. The druid’s attention turns from the remnant of the coniferous forest to the lake now, verdant gaze touching upon the insistent, still waters. He turns to it not to bathe — for he would only trek back through the mud pit to get back out of Ouroboros Spine but instead to sate his thirst. He head bows towards the calm surface of the lake and begins to lap at the water.

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