The Glass Towers of the west had long been shattered, their precious cores carved for their power, and lost in the Great War. The remnants of the towers had been protected by the Mages' society for study of the material. But none of this mattered to Ambrose any longer. He had finished his service in the army and returned to the place of his birth. Being plucked from his native home, he was not raised there but felt his return had signaled a new turn to his life. The forest had greeted him like an old friend, their leafy boughs cutting off the outside like a protective skirts of a mother. Ambrose pushed through the undergrowth, a basket in his arm and a trapped rabbit wiggling in the other. His hutch had been a two lonely females for a few months now, he felt they needed a buck. Morrel season had begun and he took advantage of the additional foodstuffs. He pushed open the door to his home, tucking the rabbit buck into its new hutch and set the basket on the low wooden table. This was life for Ambrose. He'd need to fetch more food to store before the cold killed it all. He sighed gently as he stretched, back popping. He stepped back out into the forest to check his traps before night fell fully. They were all empty. Ambrose sighed, examining the thin twine. "Animals been fleein'" He muttered as he pushed himself back up. He jerked in surprise as a light streaked overhead. A star. He smiled softly putting two fingers to his forehead making a wish. A wish for change.