Ashstags

Tall, slender, and eerily elegant, the ashstag resembles a great deer in build, its frame both graceful and unsettlingly fragile in appearance. Its fur is unlike any ordinary hide, a shifting, dust-like coat that seems constantly on the verge of dissipating, leaving a fine trail of soot wherever it moves. When disturbed, the particulates shimmer faintly, catching the dim glow of the ashwood’s ever-present embering haze. Its antlers are jagged and gnarled, more akin to charred branches than bone, their surface cracked and blackened as though burned, yet never crumbling. Faint, ember-like veins pulse within the ridges, a dull fire that flickers and fades depending on the creature’s movements. Its eyes glow like smoldering coals, reflecting even the faintest glimmers of light, making them visible even through thick mist. Perhaps most unnatural of all is its ability to dissolve into smoke, a defense mechanism that renders it nearly impossible to catch. When threatened, its body seems to unravel into vapor, its form vanishing into the surrounding mist before reforming once more, far beyond reach.

The ashstag’s means of reproduction remain largely unknown, as no hunter has ever captured a juvenile specimen, nor has any corpse of the creature ever been recovered. Some scholars theorize that it reproduces through conventional means, while others suggest something far stranger, perhaps it regenerates from the land itself, emerging from the ashes of old trees or reforming from the same mist it vanishes into. What little is known suggests that ashstags are solitary by nature, rarely seen in groups. Their young, if they exist at all, must be hidden deep within the most unreachable parts of the ashwood, places where even seasoned hunters dare not tread.

If the ashstag follows a natural life cycle, no one has lived long enough to document it. There are no records of fawns or juveniles, no sightings of aging or dying specimens. Some believe that the creatures do not age in the traditional sense, that they exist as long as the land wills them to, fading into smoke only when their time is done. Others speculate that they do not die at all, merely dispersing and reforming elsewhere, trapped in a cycle of rebirth that mirrors the eternal smolder of the ashwood itself.

The ashwood is the only place where ashstags have ever been seen, making it their undisputed domain. They do not stray beyond its ember-glowing trees, nor do they seem to exist anywhere the land is untouched by the remnants of whatever infernal catastrophe cursed the region. Within the ashwood, they move effortlessly, blending into the thick haze of mist and ember-specked air. They require neither dens nor shelters, as their ability to become smoke makes them functionally untouchable by natural predators. Some believe they draw sustenance directly from the magicks infused into the land, feeding not on plants or water but on the lingering energy that keeps the ashwood alive.

There is no evidence that the ashstag eats in the traditional sense. No tracks have ever led to grazing grounds, nor have any plants been found bearing the marks of their feeding. Instead, some speculate that the creature absorbs something from the air itself, sustaining itself on the same infernal magicks that allow it to shift between solid and vaporous states. In the rare instances where an ashstag has been observed for extended periods, it has been noted to stand motionless amid embering groves for hours, its breath a slow exhale of dark vapor, as if drawing in something unseen from the land around it. Whether this is a form of feeding, meditation, or something beyond mortal comprehension remains unknown.

The ashstag does not follow the seasons in a way that scholars understand. It does not seem to migrate, nor does it react to changes in temperature. If anything, it thrives in the bitter cold, its ember-lit form more visible against the backdrop of winter’s frost. Some say that it grows more active during heavy fog, vanishing into the mist with even greater ease, though whether this is intentional or simply a byproduct of its nature is unknown. It has been suggested that during times of great destruction-wildfires, war, the fall of villages to the Ashwood’s dangers, ashstags appear more frequently, standing at the edges of ruin like silent witnesses to devastation. Whether they are drawn to fire, death, or something deeper remains one of the many mysteries surrounding them.

The ashstag does not follow the seasons in a way that scholars understand. It does not seem to migrate, nor does it react to changes in temperature. If anything, it thrives in the bitter cold, its ember-lit form more visible against the backdrop of winter’s frost. Some say that it grows more active during heavy fog, vanishing into the mist with even greater ease, though whether this is intentional or simply a byproduct of its nature is unknown. It has been suggested that during times of great destruction-wildfires, war, the fall of villages to the Ashwood’s dangers, ashstags appear more frequently, standing at the edges of ruin like silent witnesses to devastation. Whether they are drawn to fire, death, or something deeper remains one of the many mysteries surrounding them.

The ashstag seems to perceive the world beyond simple sight and sound. It does not rely on keen ears or swift reflexes; rather, it seems to sense intent, knowing when it is being watched, when a weapon is drawn, when it is time to vanish. Its vision pierces fog and smoke with ease, making it impossible to track through the Ashwood’s natural haze. It does not communicate in any known way, but its silence is an answer in itself, a warning that it is always aware, always watching, even if it is never truly there.