Phoenix Maplewood Rooted inside of my DNA

The tips of his fur brushed against maple. The trees sprouted colors he'd seen only once. A distant memory, yet not so long ago, and something he could vaguely recall. The corners of his eyes came to a squint that leaf light fell upon. Running water rippled through his ears, his nose.

Soft soils pillowed his weight and blanketed his claws, greenery climbing along his wrists. To a maple tree, his tail fanned out and his nose pressed to what was now sticky bark. He smelled something vaguely sweet. Sniffffffff!

The most wondrous of places weighed down the damning flames of his fire; extinguished and dampened. His mind was lost in scents. Would you be too, if you could smell the earths history and stories as he? Then, that fanned tail came to a slowww wag, as if the tickles in his mind drew pleasing. He was still bandaged and battered, but surely he'd forgotten all about his pains now.