Moonspear fires

To his relief, the she-bear did not fully enter the spine, encircling the bounds of the kingdom she once ruled. Mounds of muscle grew lax and he, less prickly. Fluidly he followed her for the first few minutes before breaking away to widen their search. They were at a relatively safe distance from the spine, but the wolverine was not willing to test the precariousness of the situation. Tonravik was not the most dexterous of wolves, given her pregnancy. If she required assistance, all she need do is call. Kapvik was never far off.
INDENTStriding away, the Epsilon put his nose to work. He visually searched for perturbations in the soot. Picking apart these disturbances was a lost cause. The sun was not in the position to cast long shadows. Kapvik sniffed in no set pattern, letting his mind wander. Nothing noteworthy popped out at him. No prey, no predator has step foot in their home since the fire. Was there nothing left? Nothing of value to the wildlife here? The Epsilon wished to inspect with his own eyes but he knew better. The churned-up flow of his existence was worth more than remnants of a cadaverous imperium.
INDENTIt hit him. So meteoric, so hot – it made him burn how quick information was processed. Inhaling deep the clue, he moved his nozzle elsewhere to let it back out. Yes. Yes, this was it! He has smelled this scent prior to the spine's destruction, hence it must be what Tonravik was looking for. Raising his head, he scanned the horizon for the she-bear. Whoops. He has wandered quite a ways from her location. He tried to bark but ash lined the inside of his nostrils. A terrible fit of coughing and hacking ensued before he was able to call for Tonravik. Over here. The Epsilon waited, jittery.