The forest had lain quiet for a long time; dappled sunlight danced through the tree tops and fell in vague patterns upon the earth. Only a few hours earlier it had rained quite forcibly and drenched the ground as the grey-white clouds had opened up a veritable tumult of precipitation from the heavens.
Now the forest was less than silent as the sounds of battle from elsewhere echoed through the ancient oaks and soft underbrush. It was a terrible confrontation with thousands of warriors and such magic that the southern parts of the wood were soon lit with the glow from a hundred spells cast by flickering hands.
There upon the grass two shapes lay, one of them breathed heavily and tried to move her feathery wings. The tips of the outermost feathers were red. She was tired from the flight and every tiny thin bone ached. She had an aquiline cast to her features; they were smooth and almost elfin with dark expressive eyes and a wary expression. She wore a beautiful tunic of red and black sil