Hoshor Plains it was the closing of the day

AW. Azzaro's return after the BWP. Maybe @Rakharo or/and @Zoratto?

Azzaro ran away from the tornado when the fire started. Yes, he ran away. So what? He had ran away from the tornado with a noble thought in his mind and look where that had got him? He had turned and sprinted back in the direction of where he was before Rakharo's call rang through the air in hopes of finding his other packmates and leading them away from their ravaged home. Azzaro wouldn't have minded running straight into the flames if he knew Zoratto or Rakharo or any of his packmates were there, but the point was he didn't know where they were and so in order to save them, he ran.

His noble and idiotically brave plan backfired on him.

Azzaro had somehow ran straight into a blazing inferno. The flames licked at his paws, scorching and burning his feet, his flank and his tail. There had been a small escape route; a hole in the fire. Azzaro escaped but the damage had been done. The burns weren't too severe; he managed to keep running until he arrived at an area he deemed to be safe. There, he slumped down by a stream, utterly spent and exhausted.

Gingerly, Azzaro moved into the cool water and exhaled sharply, eyelids shutting as he drifted into the world of dreams where he was plagued by nightmares. Nightmares where he watched his Khalas being burnt alive, nightmares where he returned to a deserted, scorched and ravaged land, found the bodies of his packmates and realised his was the only one that managed to make it out alive. The next day he woke up to fever and was expecting to die soon. Azzaro had been hoping for a death worthy of a Dotharan, but now it didn't matter. What did was that he probably wouldn't be able to see the remaining members of his Khalas for a long time; wouldn't be able to talk with his brother and would die alone.

Father would be ashamed.

But somehow the fever passed quickly and Azzaro was lucky enough to find a carcass nearby. It didn't matter if it wasn't fresh; food was food and beggars couldn't afford to be choosy. Immediately, the yearling began making his way towards Hoshor Plains, disregarding the pain of his burns, but the journey was too much for the recently recovered boy and several times he had to stop to rest, or to throw up the meagre contents in his stomach.

Now Azzaro was finally here. A week had passed and he was back. The Dotharan gazed with vacant eyes at the scorched lands and walked with leaden steps into the plains. He was a sight to behold; bedraggled, gaunt, cadaverous and emaciated. Pale and haggard, you could hardly recognize him as he slunk slowly through the lands. His burns was festering, and he was sure that this time he would die if he did not get medical attention soon. Azzaro wouldn't mind dying if everyone else was dead, and right now, it did seem like this place was deserted.

Azzaro collapsed onto the ground, tilted his head back and howled a howl full of pain, anguish and a bit of hope. He called for help, if there was any; he called for the khalas, if there was anyone left; and he called to say he was alive, which wouldn't be much use if nobody was here. After the last note of his howl faded into the win, the yearling curled up beside a rock and closed his eyes, praying to the Golden Rhoa that someone would come for him.

Tina was settling in as smooth as she usually did. Well, not usually because she wasn't one to usually go for families but the once Queen-to-be fit in weather snuggly. She was pulling herself along at a lofty gait, her fluid trot causing her silken layers to dance in the hot wind. Vibrant hazel gemstones scanned the charred grounds for any useful plants she could scavenge for healing properties.

A girl sounded off rather close, and as easily as she began her trek, she changed courses to the path of the call. 

It wasn't a voice of the coyotes her Alpha seemed to rule over, but the voice of a wolf. And this wolf was proned, and was reeking of burned fur. 
Ouch. 
Tinashe drifted closer to the victim of nature's cruelest, and smelled the scent of the Alpha underneath the blackened covering, and Tina chose that moment to not attempt to kill the proposed trespasser.
He was one of theirs.

"Are you conscious? Can you hear me?"

Concern lightly collected in her exotic stare as she analyzed the burn victim.

Zoratto missed Azzaro. It tugged at his heartstrings everyday knowing that he could, like Lavakho, be a burned skeleton somewhere in the charred plains, picked away by the vultures and scavengers who thrived on such times. When he wasn't trying to bring the bison back into their lands, he was searching for his companion. Days went by, weeks, and no sign. He wanted to cry sometimes.

Then it happened. His voice soared above the plains, broken, battered, full of sorrow and pain, but it was his voice. Zoratto answered immediately, his deep, sonorous tones full of excitement to hear he was alive. He didn't care if anyone got the wrong implications at this point.

The lean yearling ran towards the call, feeling his heart in his chest as he saw Azzaro's form against a rock, seeing the burns, his emaciated frame. The boy whimpered, slowing to a halt before pushing past the chocolate-furred foreigner. "Ekik di sia idol!" He barked to her, standing in front of Azzaro's body, looking him over. "Azzaro..." He whispered, laying down in front of him, his head close to his. Shilta wux nymuer ve? Coi ui Zoratto, si mi tenpiswo..."