I am the bastard son of the sky and the ground.
Sprouted whole from my mother’s sundered flesh.
Implanted as she shuddered from my father’s intrusion.
This biting weed I am.
No root.
All bloom.
No comfort.
All rage.
I am the howling bitch that roars and devours.
My children spread from me, and I ride them to destruction.
Each new tongue a new voice to the chorus that praises me.
Silence carries my train.
Your loss.
Means nothing.
My purpose?
Burn!
I am the beast that waits in the forest and the fields.
You have tried to ward them, to prevent my awakening.
Your hubris leads you to think that I can be mastered.
I will eat all you have.
Winds push.
Tinder pulls.
Your match.
My surrogate.
Should I not make my parent proud?
Watch me retake your lands.