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.