Blackfeather Woods i'm so lost thinking our love was a lie

despite that the sun of the mid-morning was rotund in the sky when miktrull shrugs into the dark woods; it is a stark contrast. the temperature drops, cooler.

the trees whisper secrets to the phantom that weaves thru them; half repressing the urge to shudder. even after all these years, rabe remains unfound ... and the dark, the witching hours in the darkest throes of night still haunt him.

the searing heat of the flames that marred his flesh on the left side of his body is felt as if it were still happening, the stench of his own burning flesh —

the screaming yelp that sounds like a tortured hellhound ... that came from his own throat; the scorch of heat and hot ash that scarred his vocal chords ... that had almost killed him.

miktrull lives it every night.

instinct tells him to flee this place; but he has survived three winters after the burning and it was long since time he trained himself to cease being afraid of the dark.

so, despite the fear resisting every step he takes, miktrull pushes on: towards the heart of blackfeather forest, unsure of what he will find waiting for him there.