The Sentinels forge me a blade

Guardian Thread with @Rakk 

The morning light was feeble and pale; casting a watery sheen upon the fallen timber of the Sentinels. Embry's cocoa hue was aureate in the sun's early glow, providing stark contrast to the darkened mop of trees surrounding. A slight chill filled the air this morning, and with it loomed a thick cloud of fog.

Embry had just awoken from a deeper sleep than he had been granted for quite a while. He blinked away what tendrils of his dreams remained with a forlorn yawn and tipped his head back to release a small grunt as he stretched. What an inauspicious morn.