The Sentinels Ashes

Astraios found himself in a wasted forest. The ground was dusty ash, clinging to his cream coat, giving him a sooty look. The trees, dead, rotted and unstable. He had wandered to hunt, but found himself staring at little.

Unless... surely that was not a fat pheasant? The massive hunter could do little to hide himself here, so he made a dash for it. It startled, but he was fast, tall, and best of all, gaining on it.