The Bracken Woods Can't erase what I wrote in ink

In the silence, the stillness, the peace of the forestry,  it was easy to hear the commotion. For although the forest was at ease, it was not without life. The stampede of the elk thundered the forest floor, vibrating. Their calls bellowing, the calls of wolves, screaming, his large, devilish ears taking in the sounds with a fear. 

He lifted from the safety of his hollow, long legs taking equally long strides to close the distance between him the those in need. He would guard his ward, as pledged. But he cries, oh how he whines! His pain by the light of the sun burns into his eyes. It reflects like a mirgraine to the light of the sun - and that is true to be it! Whilst his eyes string, causing wine pools to narrow as he moves, his long ears turn back, folding against his skull as his features crinkle, snarling up as his head throbs. 

He arches yet his vampire heart yearns, prushing him into the direction of Uriel's scent until he is greeted by not one, but two golden pheonix born by the light of the sun. The shadow still, a hitch in his breath. How?