Like blood spill down from the sky above, trees are struck with crimson glow. The leaves of these red trees are dark and merciful in colorations. Ground is soft in areas, almost like a swap or watered down soil; mud. In other sections the land is firm and abrasive to the strike of a paw. Over time the trees have harnessed and embraced the red and let the hue run into its developing pigments. The pain of those slaughtered by the hands of this pack seem to cry out at certain times during the night. The red painted forest welcomes the pack on her ground. Providing a canopy over head from lingering sky.

A place of blood and gashing of teeth, you find yourself in past the eruption. The land is jagged with ebony volcanic rocks. Some masses seem to strike out from the inner volcano with hostility. Walls around you are jagged as well, rocks ranging from brown to black and some burned white with ash are impacted into your surroundings. Hot steam lifts up from magma made cracks. This is the place where the pack dens are located. Hidden away inside a beast with a hotter temper then them. When the pack needs a place to meet, they will find their paws embracing the warm from the hell of this volcano’s core.