A large figure lay motionless, sprawled among the roots of a great tree. Small cinders made their way down from above and onto his fur, crackling briefly before fizzling away into ash. Through the heated air I couldn't tell whether or not he still breathed.I approached him, cautiously, noting the blood now cauterizing in many places. He looked like death – he even smelled like it. I couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for the boy, as strange as that seemed.I knelt down beside Tiefing and examined his face more closely. Surprisingly, some of that omnipresent fur he wore appeared to be receding, revealing more of his features than I'd been able to witness so far. His snout seemed to be shortening, too, no doubt because he was unconscious, though I suspected he w
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