A Message From The Willow

The road through Vanberg Woods stretched endlessly before them, swallowed beneath the shadows of towering Blackloth trees. Their trunks were dark as charcoal, yet beneath the cracked bark bled veins of deep crimson, glowing faintly like dying embers beneath burnt skin. Above, the leaves shimmered black beneath the fading sunlight, rustling softly with every breath of wind as though whispering among themselves.

Credence rode ahead atop his massive black destrier, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the narrow woodland path. Leather straps creaked against his broad shoulders while the scent of ale and sweat lingered around him like a second cloak. Beside him rode Darren, smaller in build yet sharper in gaze, his dark hood drawn low as wary eyes wandered between the endless trees surrounding them.