The Roar Beneath the Trees
The sky in the morning was a living canvas.
It oozed orange and gold into pale rose, the colors unfolding broad as if by the hand of a gentle god. At the horizon, fires of light seethed, the initial edge of the sun pushing into the world of waking. Its light crept slumberously over the earth like fire creeping over stone, driving out the lingering sigh of night. A crown of light pushed above the ground, strewing long shadows across the western frontiers of the Starlight Duchy.
