[BEAR.]

Smoke.

A familiar scent that burned through his lungs and mind. The gray wisps in the sky were reminiscent of a memory forgotten - flames laying waste to trees and a forest. The burning of a Waterbarn, the burnt remnants of cats.

Fellcone did not wish to see a repeat, but he was unsure if this blaze was impacting another. So as he neared the vurning fields, he kept his eyes peeled - looking for movement in the firey chaos.

[ not in camp & probably won't be noticed for a while but i wanted to establish him noticing ]