The Sentinels has claw marks on it

The flames no longer roared and their lives no longer in peril. 

The smoke settled but along with it ash lingered.

In the lungs, on their coats, and scorched into flesh.

He had gotten them out of the fire, but the fire was still within them.

Her more than him. Where he had been singed, she burned.

Why hadn't he been more alert? Woken up with her? Gotten there sooner? Stopped her?

As she waded into the water he could see it. Her body portraying words she could not say. Quivering against the necessary pain.

It hurt. More than the fire. To know she experienced such pain while in his care.

He did as she had. Walking into the water and allowing it to wash over him. Taking with it the surface level of ash. Dunking his head for but a moment before surfacing again.

The ash in his lungs did not like being suffocated. It revolted and sent him into a fit of light coughs before he was able to take another uninhibited breath. 

Sipping on the water in an attempt to clear his throat was distasteful. Regardless of how many gulps he took each tasted of smoke.

She erupted out of the water. A violent panic toward land. He pursued.

Rushing to her side, water pooling off his unshaken coat, wishing to catch her gaze.

"What is it? Your burns? Something within the water?" his eyes scanned her for any worsening injury.