
Dragon blood trees
Umbrella-shaped, slow-growing, and faintly absurd. They bleed a crimson resin when their bark is cut. The resin once shipped to the Mediterranean as a dye and a varnish, prized as far away as Stradivari's workshop.
Most of them sit on the Diksam plateau, somewhere between fifteen hundred and two thousand meters above the sea. You can walk among them at dawn before the cloud lifts. There is nothing else like it.




