The Sentinels Boarfish

Stars glittered overhead and the trees called out on the wind. 

Swordfish rose from sleep, lifting his head to stare groggily at the deep wood. The remnants of fire still clung to the territory. The bear-hunter did not know what tragedy had taken the Sentinels. He did not wish to know. 

Stepping into the unfamiliar forest on softly placed hunter’s steps, Swordfish followed the scent of boar. The winds carried its fragrance and lured him deeper.