Ven sighed as he kept the radio gripped firmly in his left paw, the first frigid winds of a rapidly approaching night buffeting his exposed paw, cutting clean through the fur. Of course, Henryk didn't seem to even notice the chill. Faewolves were just built differently, though it didn't help that Ven was distinctly not a snow fox. The Ranger tugged his thick coat a little tighter around his form, fixing his position on top of his feral companion.

"We'll be entering the clearing soon." Henryk informed him in that deep, gruff voice. He was sniffing the air, probably trying to make out whatever was burning so fiercely up ahead. The smoke could be seen for miles. Ven shivered and brought his radio up, checking its signal. Trusty old analog tech. Even Abeyance's magical bullshit couldn't cut through the almighty power 476 Mhz. He could still vaguely remember one of the techies trying to explain exactly why, but as a Ranger, all he cared about was that it worked, and it worked consistently. Lives often depended on it.

"Come in Snow Watch 14, this is Team Six Two Two Six checking in." Ven called into the radio. There was a short buzz of static, then a hazy voice crackled back, unnaturally loud in the quiet, still winter landscape that surrounded him.

"This is Snow Watch 14, still reading you loud and clear."

Ven allowed himself a brief sigh of relief, eyes closing as he leaned back, feeling the rhythmic swaying of his faewolf mount as he trekked through the light snow. His ears could now just barely make out a new sound on the wind. A very distant, ever so faint roaring. Not an animal, thank the spirits, but instead the noise he'd been anticipating. The howl of a raging inferno. A great fire.

"We'll be coming up within visual range of the crash soon." Ven informed his radio. There was a statically hum of agreement from the other end.

"Remember to stay at least one mile back. Whatever brought it down might still be in the area. Shouldn't be interested in you either way, but best to play it safe."

"Copy that." Ven replied quickly, his eyes scanning his surroundings. The woods had been quiet ever since he arrived at Whitelake, there was no reason to believe tonight would be any different. The Eternal Engine that made this place was reportedly a very quiet, gentle being. A proper recluse, even. But then again, no ships had ever gone down in this area. This was no small fry either. A proper S-44 Carcosa Transport Freighter. There had to be millions of credits worth of supplies on that thing. Some small colony down the line was going to be hurting for a while...

"What do you think did it?"

The sudden question coming from the other end of the radio made Ven jump slightly, a motion Henryk felt. The large faewolf gave out a light, amused chuckle, and received a light kick to the side in exchange from his rider.

"Who knows. Could be anything. Had to be big though." Ven replied, seeing the clearing approaching up ahead.

"Maybe it was Njaran." The voice suggested, citing an old Gramaryan god.

"Maybe it was Santa Claus." Henryk muttered under his breath, and this time it was Ven's turn to chuckle. The wolf had little patience for guessing games, he'd lived here too long.

"Doubt it. Most likely our host finally got curious." Ven replied simply.

"Hinter?" The voice sounded doubtful. "Naaah, doesn't seem it's style. It's a gentle giant if anything."

"Even the nice ones get pissy from time to time." Ven reminds the voice, before swapping the radio to his other paw, flexing his poor, cold fingers before slipping them back into the comfort of their heavy mitten. He then reversed the process with his other paw, holding the radio between his teeth as he worked the glove off.

A whistle of surprise from Henryk drew Ven's gaze upward. They'd just entered the clearing, and for the first time the burning hulk of the wrecked transport was fully visible, and what a sight it was...

Carcosa 511, Freighter inbound to Empyrean, lost five days ago, found this afternoon over seven Jumps away by two bored Rangers. Split down the middle, a blazing inferno at its heart. The fire was incredible, so intense that Ven swore he could feel the heat from atop Henryk, and they were just over a mile out. The violent cascading glow of the blaze shot dancing shadows across the tree and snow, and the smoke that bellowed out in great rolling pillars was nearly black as tar. Aviation fuel. It would likely burn for days, possibly weeks.

Crowned in the deep blues of young night and surrounded by the black-white silhouettes of snow-capped trees, it made for a hauntingly beautiful sight.

“Never seen a wreck this big. Damn she must have been topped up on gas.” Ven muttered, transfixed by the sight.

“We shouldn't linger. That fire is blind to attract something unwelcome.” Henryk pointed out with a grunt.

“Right.” Ven nodded, bringing his radio up again.”

“Snow Watch 14, this is Team Six Two Two Six again. We have visual confirmation of the wreck. She’s definitely Carcosa 511. Her spines snapped, broken clean down the center and burning like wild. You wouldn't believe the size of those flames.” The fox reported.

“Copy that Six Two Two Six. To confirm: Are they any signs of survivors?”

There was a silence that followed that question, one that seemed to waken up the creeping chill that Ven had forgotten about. He looks to the sky around the wreckage. No signal flares, not even smoke trails of burnt out flares, nor had they seen any since they first spotted the crash sight. Ven looked down to Henryk, who’d been scanning the snow carefully. The Faewolf lifted his snout and sniffed the air, but gave up quickly, shaking his head.

“Can't smell anything but that damn smoke. Even still, no signs of footprints the whole way here. No secondary fires, no shouting, no flares.” He finally said out loud. Ven raised the radio slowly.

“Nada, Snow Watch. It's quiet as the grave out here. If we’re going to find anyone alive, we’ll likely find em the usual way.” He reported. There was a silence on the other end of the radio this time, and when the voice returned, it was noticeably more forlorn.

“We copy. I’ll inform Whitelake HQ to have every outpost in the area on alert for stragglers. If you don’t think you can help, Command suggests you vacate the area ASAP.”

“You don't need to tell me twice. We’re heading back.”

Ven put the radio back in its pouch, then sunk his new newly chilled right paw back into its glove, before shoving both into the pockets of his jacket.

“How many people are usually on those things?” Henryk suddenly asked, his gaze locked on the burning leviathan. Ven thought for a moment.

“I think maybe ten, twenty people? They’re huge ships but designed to run with skeleton crews.” He replied.

“Huh.”

There was another long silence. The two companions couldn't bring themselves to turn away from the scene just yet, their gazes locked on the wreckage, listening to the distant roar of the flames, noses catching the distinct scene of burning fuel. Something about it all brought Ven back to his childhood, those early school days, having to remember all those boring poems and stories. For whatever reason, his brain decided to pluck one from the depths of his memory, and bring it to the forefront.

“An old and vile chieftain was returning home one evening when he saw a group of merrymen building a great bonfire in his hunting grounds. The chief approached, enraged, and demanded: ‘Who are you to build such a fire on my land without permission?’ A young deer turned to face him, and bowed respectfully. ‘I am terribly sorry sire, but this is no bonfire. It is a funeral pyre. You see, tonight a man will die, and we wish to help his soul find its way through the dark to Njaradeem.’”

Henryk had begun walking now, turning around to go back the way they came, but he was listening intently, ears perked with curiosity.

“The chief knew then that these strangers were spirits of the dead, here to help one of their own find his way. However, the wicked chief cared not, and stomped his foot into the ground. ‘You will build no such fire for a mere peasant on my hunting grounds!’ He ordered. The deer frowned. ‘But sire, this is a soul of your clan. Your kindred.’ He implored. ‘I am my clan, and I will have no man stand over me. Do as I command spirit, this is my domain, not yours.’ The chief demanded one final time. The deer was silent a moment, and then he smiled. ‘If that is your wish, so be it.’ And with that, he and his kin departed, leaving the pyre unlit…”

Ven took one last look towards the wreckage, watching the massive, licking flames do their work.

“That night, the chief died in his sleep, but his soul could not find its way in the dark to Njaradeem, and was soon dragged away by the jaws of Vynharek, as the deer spirits’ amused laughter echoed in his ears.”

Silence fell on the snowy landscape once again. It wasn’t until they were back on the forest path, and the light of the fire dimmed from their backs, did Henryk finally mutter his own peace, an old fae prayer, spoken so softly it was almost taken by the wind.

“May those now lost hold the dark, until a kindly light leads them home.”

- - -

Decided to do a 4-Hour Draw Challenge, and set it in the Alter universe. I mostly wanted to practice fire and smoke, but it was fun make a night effect like this, and trying to find better ways to draw snowy trees.

As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated ^^