The Sentinels xxxvi. you've got a warm heart,

the charred towers intrigued her, and as soon as aeglaeca discerned them on the horizon, she pushed forward to meet them. there was a story here, a lesson from an angry goddess, the she-wolf was sure. as she true near, it was obvious that the area would never again see great sequoias again— at least, not for generations upon generations. there was a gravity here. she felt the weight of it.

but there was also a gift, as she set eyes upon a pale she-wolf. finally— the wilds were not so cursed, after all.

grief lingers here, she acknowledged quietly, perhaps sensing melancholia in the other's posture, but there is also hope. look— aeglaeca turned her gaze further inland, where a young sequoia had begun to reclaim a place amongst its fallen ancestors. the ash had long-since composted, and groundcover was also beginning to awaken at the bases of the dead sentinels.