The Black Oak

The trees crowd in a dense little huddle here, the thickly leaved canopy smothering the ground below in a soft, sleepy glow. Low, gentle mists frequently emanate between the trees, curling around the ancient trunks, woven also with a network of small, babbling brooks. And in the centre of it all stands a huge oak, it's wood black and twisted. Rumour has it that it was lightning struck long ago, but it's story was long since lost to time. This marks the dead centre of the forest, and the surrounding clearing allows light to spill from a gap in the trees, making it a perfect gathering spot for the pack.