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Deviation Actions

DotW - Burn

Published: Sep 5, 2016

3.2K Views

arpg dotw forest landscape moth oc painting rpg wolf wolves fire fellfang originalcharacter domainofthewolf

Description

Fire.

Just to be close to it again was... exhilarating.

For so long she had told herself that she had been a fool to trust the flames. She had thought of herself as wiser now, older - able to look back upon her old beliefs and fascinations with a new, more pragmatic perspective. Hindsight was a wonderful thing, and it was easy to tell others that you knew better. She knew the routine better than anyone. Fire was dangerous. Fire was wicked.

But oh - fire was so beautiful.

She had turned her back on Ruffian for the final time, as his own home slowly began to turn into bog, her orange eyes burning with the same furious intensity as the magma spitting from the open mouth of the mountain. The image of his charred face and icy gaze did not completely leave her, but the excitement of fire pushed him back into the darker shadows of her mind. She had likened him to the fire many times, dangerous and unpredictable and yet - so addictive. But even now it was the heat of the inferno that drew her, drew her away from the watery swamp that would soon engulf Vektren and its demons. He remained in shadows, shadows he had chosen over her, while she headed into the light.

In the time it took for her to race back to Fellfang - to home - the molten orange and gold had already swallowed much of the forest she had come to know so well. As she turned her head upward she could see the treetops falling, melting down like wax, tilting to the ground and succumbing to the overwhelming pressure of the flame. The magma oozed across the earth so slowly that it could be mistaken for a friend, but it moved everything in it's path with a strength beyond any measure. Those trees that yet stood were smothered in brilliant red flames, each spur passing the gift of fire to the next. But as she came closer to the swirling river of lava, closer to the poison and the destruction, she did not feel fear or sorrow.

She felt alive.

More alive than she had since she had lost Olega. Only reuniting with the fire could remind her how nothing else could compare, how nothing else could hold a candle to the feeling of ecstasy that the flames brought with them. It was indescribable, different to anything she had ever felt before. And no-one would understand. Not Olega, not Polaris, not Ruffian, not Kris'tran. They all saw fire as an enemy. They did not see what she could see.

The flames licked the boughs and trunks of the trees. It tasted everything; no matter the distance or differences between them. Fire treated everything the same, touched everything with the same hungry spark. It was not kinder to some and crueler to others. It was fair. It was simple. It was easy to understand, if you listened to the whispers of the smoke and flames. Moth had always listened. Even when she was young, and the embers had begun to burn such a distance away that she could only just see the smoke twisting and choking the clouds, she had listened. Faithful and trusting.

The seared flesh upon her cheek was reminder enough not to get too close. She stopped a fair distance from the obliteration of all she had come to call her own, but the magnitude of what she was loosing could not take full hold when she was hypnotised by her old friend. It did not matter what was burning as long as she could watch it, watch the havoc unfold. And it would be easy to step closer, to close her eyes and let the fire swallow her.

Stay, Moth. Stay close to the flames. They are the only true friends you have ever known.

Then, a single howl punctuated the dancing flames and cracking wood.

It came to hear ears like a whisper or a ringing, a sound that she could have imagined, a sound that might not be real. But after a pause, it came again, stronger and louder. It pushed past the fantasies that had taken hold and her ears turned toward the noise. Again it came, a symphony now, the voices of other wolves joining the call of the first. The solemn sounds were haunting enough to tear her eyes from the fire. Fellfang. They were in danger. She knew these flames well; she had charted their every movement since she had been old enough to think for herself. But her pack mates did not know the fire like she did. Some of them may never even have seen it in their lifetime. Some of them, she knew well enough, feared it. Flashes of faces began to interrupt the soothing flames, drawing her away from the blaze she loved so deeply. Suddenly it seemed to her that there was more at risk than just her own life.

Although it took more strength than she knew she had, Moth turned away from the flames.

The skuld needs me.

At long last... Moth's response to the volcano that ravaged Fellfang and forced them from their home. Moth loves fire, more than she loves anyone or anything else. It takes a great deal of power for her to turn away from those flames and return to the Skuld when they are in danger.

Response to:

Night of Fire (Fellfang Prompt Part 1)Fable suddenly found himself bracing against a sickening shudder in the earth. Eldask went from a peaceful quiet to a otherworldly scene where the ground rolled under his paws like the sea. An earthquake.
The ancient oaks rattled and groaned as the tremors sent them swaying like saplings. Fable heard loud cracks as massive branches and trunks splintered all around him. His thoughts went to home as he felt the tremors subside. He needed to go to the Eldre Tree, to gather the pack to make sure everyone was alright.
The forest began to fall silent once more, but the life within it still reeled. Birds had taken to flight- he could hear their cries and beating wings swarm above the canopy. Deer, rabbits, and other wildlife raced through the undergrowth in every direction in terror. The brush whipped about, rustled and snapped as all manners of beasts did their best to flee.
Fable soon followed suit, he turned and began to tear through the forest, releasing a loud, urgent howl to rally the p

Night of Fire (Fellfang Prompt Part 2)"Lore!" he called out.
He heard no reply, nor did she emerge from the forest.
An involuntary cry left his lips when the possibility occurred to him: Lore had gone to her place of solitude where the vapors of the mountain aided her in her meditative visions... at the foot of the Forsaken Peak. She had begun to visit there most days, and often failed to come back to the den site for days at a time. He searched the throngs of wolves weaving past him in vain, Lore was not among them.
He called out to the brandr of Fellfang, "Brandr, continue taking the pack East, I will find you! Don't follow me."

He then flew past the wolves that had climbed to safety, plunging back into the smoking, glowing forest. He coughed and choked at the smoke and fumes from the magma grabbed at his lungs, but he surged ahead. The air smelled like poison. In his heart, he knew that Lore had gone to the mountain, but he hoped, prayed that she'd fled in time. He ran as far as he could into the dying, s

Image size

2130x1692px 7.36 MB

Comments24

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foxstory

Dec 7, 2017

The wispy flames and powerful colors look excellent in this picture. Your technique with splotches of color as separate brushstrokes creates a nice sense of implied motion and flickering light between the trees.