Picture this: an entire city built into the boughs of one singular, colossal tree. Picture entire skyscrapers hidden behind the foliage, balanced in the fork of a bough. Picture houses lining the spiraling trunk, descending miles downwards to the base which is too far to see around clearly from one side. Picture clear skies above, a warm breeze gently rattling the leaves, clouds gracing the crown of the tree, the buildings bobbing gently with the branches in the wind.
Now picture the ground beneath the tree. The leaves would cast it in eternal nighttime. The ginormous, gnarled roots would leech the ground dry of moisture and nutrients, leaving it a barren landscape. Rotting fruit and leaves from the tree dot the ground, masking wolfish footprints.
Out where the sun shines, out from under the leaves and shadow cast by the tree lay miles and miles of farmland. Who runs these farms, you ask? The same people that live in the trees. These people are not your average people, mind you. They're humanoid, yes, but each human sprouts a pair of wings, each wing at least three times their body length. When folded, the tips of the wings easily drag on the ground, hence the species' preference to live in the trees.
And what, you ask, might be so important about the shady spots beneath the tree? That's where the avian peoples' natural predator lurks. Wolfish in nature, massive and more muscular than the avians, these people are generally uncivilized and work in packs, hunting down their next meal, usually consisting of fallen young or injured avians and farming avians.
And naturally, what do you think happened next when the canine people discovered fire?
Now picture the ground beneath the tree. The leaves would cast it in eternal nighttime. The ginormous, gnarled roots would leech the ground dry of moisture and nutrients, leaving it a barren landscape. Rotting fruit and leaves from the tree dot the ground, masking wolfish footprints.
Out where the sun shines, out from under the leaves and shadow cast by the tree lay miles and miles of farmland. Who runs these farms, you ask? The same people that live in the trees. These people are not your average people, mind you. They're humanoid, yes, but each human sprouts a pair of wings, each wing at least three times their body length. When folded, the tips of the wings easily drag on the ground, hence the species' preference to live in the trees.
And what, you ask, might be so important about the shady spots beneath the tree? That's where the avian peoples' natural predator lurks. Wolfish in nature, massive and more muscular than the avians, these people are generally uncivilized and work in packs, hunting down their next meal, usually consisting of fallen young or injured avians and farming avians.
And naturally, what do you think happened next when the canine people discovered fire?