It was a spark that brought me to life. The most destructive force of nature, brought to life to bring about renewal. As I was, I had no choice but to consume. For the end of consumption would be my death.
The forest bristled in fearful anticipation. For now, i only licked at the edge of the grass, setting it to ash. But soon, I would gain the momentum to consume whole trees, to burn the forest until some unbeatable obstacle should come my way. Around me, animals run past, terror alight in their eyes. The calls of the forest's children permeated, just barely loud enough to hear over my own crackling. Soon, all animals have fled.
I inch ever closer to the nearest tree. I need fuel and purchase before I can hope to take it, but the supply of dry grass is dwindling fast. Tentatively, I touch at the base of the tree. It flinches at the knowledge of its impending death. At first, my tendrils only lick the base, but soon, I must travel higher to stay alive. Near the middle of the tree, the wind picks up, and parts of me are torn away and forced onto the surface of other trees. Again and again, it happens. Until the forest is awash in flame, each tall coniferous tree burning like an unholy flag. There is nothing but orange to be seen. The forest is a sea from the depths of hell.
It's at the edge of a lake that I can no longer travel. On the other side, a road, which I cannot get purchase on. Death is inevitable. Yet death is not the worst conclusion. To bring renewal is my sole existence. A fast, violent existence, but mine all the same. If I were to die in vain, if the forest were not to regrow stronger and healthier, well, that would be the ultimate failure.
