Sweatah Weathah

After the tremors had died down, and the dust had settled, Atreyu made her way out of her temporary den in Fern Gulley. The sky was an unusual shade of red, foreboding and dread-inducing. Moving back inside, Atreyu nosed Azriel awake the best she could. "Wake up, my shadow...something is wrong." Her instincts were screaming at her to find out what was wrong, something pulling her toward the west.

As she made her way there, Atreyu heard a plaintive cry as the wind blew, coming over a ridge to see huge red-colored spires rising up out of the ground, but Atreyu was not deterred. Something was dangerous here, she just couldn't quite put her paw on it. As she drew closer, Atreyu noticed the faces on the spires, their features contorted by sheer terror. These disturbed her, but they did not make her afraid. "What do you think made these?" The wind blew and one of the spires beside her seemed to shriek in horror. Reaching up instinctively, she gently stroked the smooth parts of the spires, shushing the monolith as if it were a sad child.

She half expected something bad to happen, but she wasn't sure what. Preparing for anything, she turned her holographic gaze to Azriel, just to make sure he was there. He wouldn't like her touching these foreign spires one bit, and she couldn't help herself. "You don't have to cry anymore..." She whispered to the spire, hoping to calm whatever restless spirit dwelled within.

"Azriel" || "Atreyu"