The Heartwood oh, death

If he hadn’t believed in ghosts before, there was a spark of potential for it now. An ear flicked at the sound of the rumbling threat, Akavir’s paler eyes settling upon the large spectral. Crimson eyes burned at him, saliva pooled at the lips in the brimming anger of the other. It was almost as if the harbinger was a final gift beyond the grave from his dead wife—their shattered love and mistrust represented now in the dark beast before him.

“This is home?” Incredulity traced his words, and he chuffed back a scoff. His own pelt bristled, his form shifting to stand at a greater height as he prepared himself for the onset of the other. A land of burnt ash and waste. Of death...


How fitting for the red-eyed monster.