The Bracken Woods ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Piercing, orange eyes. They were like the flames themselves, sharp and feirce.. Similar to her father, but his voice was different, and when he fully came to view, she knew it was not his image, "Cenric." Her voice was crisp, days of bare minimum water without talking; inhaling soot and dry air, it was a surprise she could speak.

Célnes pushed herself upward, to properly see him, "You are alive." The elk couldn't help but beam with a smile of relief, as she pushed herself toward him in an embrace. A comfort into his fur, making sure he was truly there, "only you," but he was the only one. The eldest of them all, she had seen none of their little brothers or sisters.

Did they make it out?