The Crimson Sphere

Pushed past the splintered stake and mounted the weathered timber slats of the compost bin. High ground. The dusk sky bled dark purple, but low on the horizon, the dying sun swelled into a heavy, blood-red ember. Unnatural glare. I threw my head back, locked my amber eyes onto the burning sphere, and parted my jaws in a silent roar. It did not flinch; it sank deeper behind the distant rooftops, bathing my hide in crimson light. A formidable titan leaving the field. Ground held. Night falls.