The Emberfall Pack Renewed

The Emberfall Woods glowed with an ethereal warmth under the full moon the night sky a deep velvet indigo, studded with stars that twinkled like scattered diamonds, their light filtering through the dense canopy of ancient oaks and elms, casting dappled silver patterns on the forest floor. The air was warm, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, carrying the earthy scent of damp moss, pine, and the sweet, heady aroma of moonflowers—those delicate, silver-petaled blooms that shimmered with a faint luminescence, their petals unfurling fully under the moonlight, dotting the clearing like tiny stars fallen to earth. At the heart of the woods stood the packhouse, a sturdy log structure with walls of polished cedar, their grain glowing golden in the moonlight, the slanted roof covered in vibrant green moss, a thin wisp of smoke curling from the stone chimney, the scent of burning cedar mingling with the forest air. The wide porch was adorned with hand-carved wooden benches, their surfaces smo