The Sentinels there's a black crow sitting across from me

@Dalia

It hadn't taken very long before he found himself deep in the heart of the sentinels. Ford knew that the forest had been decimated in the fire, but it felt almost bitter to have confirmed that it happened. Something in him had hoped that they would have arrived and the trees would have regrown to their same might and looming presence.

It didn't matter anyway; he belonged to the water.

The stories she had told about the ancient wood had been mystical to him, especially as a child. It had not taken until his maturing that he realized how foolish the premise was. Magic had never been presented to him, so he did not know that it could truly exist. Still, he knew the sacredness of their witchcraft to be astounding. Ford had always been bold, but he had never been stupid enough to speak ill of his mother's beliefs. If not for her sadness, for his father's wrath.

The inkhound paused in his trek across scorched earth. His crown was lifted and he peered upward, imagining for a moment that the wood was back to its prime. It would have had to have been something stunning.