Moonspear Fram, ber med bare føt, den tunge børi.

Not for the first time, a wounded Towhee looked up and found herself thinking, Maxim?! Half a second later, she realized it was just Alaric. At least this time, she didn’t feel the old anger. Her stomach did a weird little dance, then the moment passed.

I don’t think I’m hit, I was just in the splash zone, Towhee quipped dryly, rolling more onto her belly and trying to twist a little to look at her back. The scars are old, she said just in case, but they’re hurting like they’re fresh. Did it burn me?

Meerkat appeared then, looking pretty upset. Towhee shook her head and found one of her daughter’s paws, putting her own on top of it.

It’s not as bad as it looks—and smells—I swear, she reassured, curling her nose at the odor she’d only now caught. You should feel bad for that tree, it definitely took the brunt of it, Towhee added, pointing at the charred sycamore.

The rain took mercy on them and tapered off to a light drizzle. Towhee cocked her head as she suddenly noticed the steam rising from the blackened branches.

I wanted to keep this moving and assumed Orca might stay back in the den, though feel free to prove me wrong… :)