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Event in the Darkest Night. . .

Behind the first one, more and more of the animated trees followed, flowing out of the darkness like like a swarm of ants - a seemingly endless supply appearing as if from nowhere. Their branches creaked and tangled together as they converged on Strongroot, filling the swampy space with a new, moving forest.

Joram felt stuck in place. His heart pounded. His mind raced, but he couldn't move. So full of fear, all he could feel was the vibrating soil beneath him, shaken by the movement of the army of trees headed right for him.

"Joram, run!"

. . .a Flame of Hope Might Burn.

Ascaeus strained to see into the gray-blue mists swirling before him. There. Movement. Was it them? No, only the fog coiling around an errant breeze. Listening was no use. The muffles scratchings, fluttering's, and creaks of the forest to his left revealed nothing, and the hills to his right kept silent. He reached out with his mind, trying to sense their approach, but the chill twilight clung to its secrets.

Still, Ascaeus knew they would come. How could any cinder who recieved his or her summons resist the call? Beneath the despair his kind wore like a shroud there remained a faint glimmer of hope - a desperate, fading dream of a time when their curse of the Extuingishing might be lifted, when the might be purified in the ultimate fire.

Orientation: Straight
Looking For: Friendship