The Trap 2
This had been a very terrible explosion.
The forest, once a lush tapestry of life, was now an apocalyptic tableau of ruin. The air hung heavy with the acrid scent of smoldering wood and the bitter tang of magical residue. Some of which still crackled in the air.
An eerie quiet settled over the land, interrupted only by the distant creaking of gnarled branches and the haunting howls of mutated creatures that emerged from the shadows.
The explosion, a cataclysmic clash between Curtin and Victor, had left an indelible mark on the once-vibrant landscape.
Trees that had once stood proud and tall were now gnarled skeletons, their charred remains reaching toward the leaden sky. The ground, once a soft carpet of moss and vibrant flowers, lay scorched and barren, a desolate proof of the violent forces that had torn through the heart of nature.