The Sentinels The impossible is possible tonight

for @Tuvaq
set for early morning

He never wandered very far from his friend, even today. They had slept on the outskirts of the scorched forest the night before, and Acheron had left his slumbering friend to try and find something for them to eat before he woke up. He was drawn to the strange forest, just like he had been in the other forest where he had met Tuvaq. He carefully made his way through the dead trees, his excursion slowly becoming more about exploring the ashen land than finding food, although he still kept an eye out for something just in case. 

So far there had been nothing but him and the occasional rodent he heard scurrying somewhere nearby. The squawking of a bird made him pause. It had been persistent over the last few minutes and when he focused on the sound, picking it out of the sound of the ocean in the background, he realized it seemed kind of familiar. He looked up to the barren branches, his dark blue gaze carefully searching each one until the black of a raven stood out against the muted brown of the branch it was perched on directly above him. It was the same raven from the other forest. They made eye contact and stared at each other for a few moments before the blackbird flapped its large wings and soared down to half rotted log just ahead of him. Acheron didn't move at first; it wasn't until the bird cawed at him again and flapped its wings as if to ask—what are you waiting for?

The freckled boy trotted forward, stopping only a few feet from the raven. He stared at it curiously and the bird stared back with cold, black eyes. A few silent moments passed between them and then Acheron released a soft chuff, asking—what now? Suddenly, the bird took flight again, landing on a branch in the distance and cawing at him. Acheron followed, and the bird took off again. This went on for a while until they stopped in a place where the dead, burned trees hugged the lush green ones of a different forest. Just ahead, the trickling of water could be heard, and Acheron continued towards the sound, eventually finding himself next to a small stream. The flapping of wings made him look up, and there was the raven, perched in a tree that grew awkwardly from the riverbank. It cawed at him and bobbed his head towards the stream—the water it seemed imply, and he walked forward and peered in to see it practically swarming with fish; they were decently sized, too—perfect for breakfast. 

He wasted no more time and crouched near the water's edge, watching for just the right moment before striking his muzzle into the water. He missed the first few times but managed to catch three of them before settling near the tree the raven was still perched in. He lifted his head and called for his friend then; he wanted him to see the stream and come eat.