Moonlit Terror

The scene laid out before Pyrrhic was a bit of a dichotomy. To his left the sky was clear and lit by the warm light of a massive full moon. The soft yellow glow was warm and inviting; the stars laid out around it were bright and sharp; and the sky was a deep, even navy leading up to a halo moon glow. To his right however was a sight that sent a chill down Pyrrhic's spine. Remembered fear caused his fur to stand on end and his heart to race. The sky to his right was much like it was on the left with one key difference: the tendrils of smoke that escaped from the cracked ground below. The breeze that blew towards him brought with the stink of sulfur causing bile to rise in the back of his throat.

Pyrrhic reeled away from the scene as though struck. His breath came in shallow puffs as he hurriedly minced away from the dormant volcano. It was simply too much. He'd been doing well for weeks but the sight of the smoke and the rotten egg smell were more than he could handle. The mad dash down the mountain after watching his father fall had been seared into his brain. Seeing the smoke and smelling that terrible smell transported him instantly back to that time. No scene, no matter how picturesque, could keep him from the jaws of that memory.