Gallery

Cinders was to be the first of the Night Shades of the Cinderbrand, but even before her death, there was a great mythos that she believed in, cultivated, and raised among her friends and kin. Born of the Ashes itself, Cinders knew the truth of the world: a cycle of destruction to fuel rebirth. Death was a necessity. Death and birth were one in the same: a blooming flower and a burning ember were the same essence, changed by the most holy of substance: Fire. Everything could be c...

Beam led the way through the territory: a giant golden tiger of a cat plowing through the overgrowth into a  land where the earth itself was ashen and left Brush's paws blackened from soot. There were little pockets of weeds sprouting here and there, but most of the land consisted of long black claws of hollowed out trees that had burned to cinders. Did they really live here? Curiosity drove him to pad after Beam, even as the grass got tall enough to get lost in. "Almost there," Beam'...

"Anyway," Beam squared up, staring down at him with her soft, golden eyes. If Cinders was the hottest, sharpest bite of a fire, Beam was the warmth of a radiator in a human's home. "Tell me about yourself, spark. What brought you here? Where is your family?" He was taken aback by the question, but Beam's question seemed earnest enough. "I was born under a human's house," he answered, nervously shifting his weight on his paws. He thought about his mother's sweet milk-smell and the squir...