Ouroboros Spine Her every thought, her only thought.

A star fell from the clouds,

Ciri sucked in a breath, held it. She felt her heart skip an uncomfortable beat, heard the thrum of it pound in her ears. Her body swayed and she shifted to better root herself, keep herself from crumbling to the ground at the pale wolfess' feet.

and killed the mountain's spirit.

A lump swelled in her throat at the image conjured in her mind's eye: her entire family, devoured by flames. Sunflower gaze swam suddenly with the threat of tears, but Ciri averted her eyes to blink them away. She wanted to ask if her mother or sister's bodies had been found, if they'd been respected with an appropriate burial.

If she had somewhere to go, to be close to them.

Did it even matter? She would never hear their voices again. She would never have the chance to reach for them, tell them she loved them.

Sniffing sharply, the swallow steeled herself. She sought the pale features of the duck as she asked after her name. "Ciri," the young Ostrega answered, an undeniable tremor to her voice. "I'm sorry, I... I don't...?" I don't remember yours.