Twisted Trees & Shrieking Breeze

[Jester]

Each hoofbeat reverbrated from the trees in sickening vibrations that reached back to his goat-like ears like the screams of the burning village he'd just fled. His legs pounded as hard as they could, trying desperately to escape the endless shrieks of those with charring flesh and desperate families trying to clasp their loved ones together in protection, only to fall to the horrendous flames that climbed the bark of trees and spider-webbed across every building within a few feet of the one before it.

The smoke billowed out over the treetops, obscuring the beautiful sun from shining down through the leaves, as if the gods themselves had send the hot tongues of light. It was a black, ominous cloud that shrouded the undergrowth in miserable dusk, and spooked every bird and squirrel from their nests. Before he'd gone far, he skidded to a stop to observe the paths ahead of him.

There were two ways to go. One path led back to another faun village he'd known growing up, and the other led somewhere he'd never traveled to before. It didn't take him long to choose the path that led to the next village, and he dashed down the rocky path as quickly as his feet would allow to search for help. Perhaps they would be able to send help, or at least help them find survivors... or bury the dead.

 

[AlagasianFlame]

The trees were restless. Tinwara reassured them with a wave of her hand. Despite her calm appearance, she was quite nervous. Being unable to move from the waist down, her only source of transportation was the trees. They listened to her, grew with her, even moved for her. The thick, strong branch that was curled around her goat-like legs held her aloft in the air. Not far from her position in the trees, she could see a growing cloud of black smoke. Sniffing the air, she quickly identified the source of the cloud: a fire. She knew that she would have to make a move soon, whether it be to go towards the burning village and search for survivors, or to travel as far away as possible to escape the flames. Tinwara decided on the former, and the trees complied, passing her quickly from branch to branch with practiced ease. She knew another village was close by, and that any survivors would head there first, so she quickly made her way towards where she knew the rocky road lay.

 

[Jester]

Shaloa Nyol (Sha-low-a N-yohl) dashed as fast as he could possibly go through the fringe of leaves and roots, dodging this way and that from the swinging vines that reached down to grab him away into the air. When he finally slid to a stop in the village, every eye was on him, and everyone stopped what they were doing to stare. "Fire," he shouted loudly, and pointed off in the direction he'd just dashed from. "It's climbing this way, you need to get everyone out of here!"

Stunned speechless, the entire village sprang into action, dropping their buckets of water and their piles of firewood. They dashed into their homes, grabbed their children, and shrieked all the while, hoping to the gods that the flames wouldn't touch them before fled. Every which way, the villagers left behind belongings, and memories. Treasures and money and trinkets. It would all fall under the flames. Their only hope was to gather whoever they could, and then to flee. The only safe haven from a forest fire was the fields past the tree line, and down to the sandy shores of the beach. There, past the water, was an island. No fire could possibly cross there.

He ran every which way, helping folks get their families and children as fast as he could, and when he was sure everyone was ready, he herded them toward the tree line as quickly as he could, pointing to the horizon and yelling, "Go to the shore!"

Without a word, and a few teary whimpers, the villagers made their way on pounding hooves to the end of their home, and past the fields to the water. Shaloa knew their pain. This wasn't the first time they'd faced a fire. Who was setting them? Where were they coming from? The answer was hidden between thousands of trunks of bark and leaves, and unless they escaped, there would be no way to officially find out.

 

[AlagasianFlame]

Tinwara jerked to a stop as cries of panic reached her ears. Ah, either someone's gotten out, or they've realized whats happening. She Thought for a moment. Not too far to one side was the coast, where she was guessing most of the people were fleeing too. A few miles down on the other side of the village was a large stream that ran perpendicular to the shoreline. If she could somehow direct the water in front of the village, there may be a chance of saving the second town.
Scowling darkly, she moved through the forest away from the city and the shoreline. Soon, she could hear the rush of the large stream. Feeling along the stream's banks through the trees' roots, she quickly found a weak point. using the power of the trees' roots, the bank quickly crumbled away. Slowly but surely, she created a path towards the front of the village. It was a good thing too, because the fire was almost upon her.
Tinwara let loose a low growl at this. Her friends the trees were dying. Her people were dying. Her villages were being destroyed. Filled with a burning rage to match the flames, she continued carving a path out of the earth, directing the water around the front of the village. She was almost to the shore, when she realized that the fire was too big, and the makeshift river not wide enough. Summoning up the last of her powers, she ordered all the trees along the banks to back up. Hopefully, the space and water between the two sides would keep the fire from jumping across the river.
Exhausted, she made her way towards the shore, where she could see a congregation of the villagers. Leaning against the trunk of the tree closest to the shore, she watched and waited as the fire drew nearer to her watery barrier; it was the only thing she could do at this point. She would find out what was going on in her forest, and she was going to stop it from happening again.