Bastille was charging into the fire, whipping off her cloak and packs. Fleck watched her fluent motions as she leapt into the flames. He tied Kyle’s rope to a tree.

“I’ll be back.” He said, shrugging off his cloak and pack and charging into the flames.

As he burst through the barrier of flames, he felt fire singing his fur and catching his papers. He quickly exstinguished the fire, leaving singed edges.

Fleck glanced around him as he ran. The tops of the trees were smoldering. The bushes, trees, and grasses burning into little fires. Screams filled the air, fleck’s breath coming in ragged pants. Smoke clouded his vision and diluted his senses. Nick Hollow was total ruin.

“Fleck.” Wilfred’s hoarse voice rasped.

“Uncle.” Fleck said, taking to the wounded buck’s side.

“Smalls?”

“Safe. At Cloud Mountain.” Fleck said, applying a field dressing to Wilfred’s wounds.

“Good.” Wilfred said, steadying himself on a tree.

“Bye.” Fleck whispered, running into the smoke. Already burns were forming on his arms and legs as he dashed through the forest. His aching lungs burned for water, for clean, fresh, air. He approached the edge of the wood, nearing a group of survivors. He sighed in relief, seeing that the longtreader family was in this group. He winked at Bastille who was helping some survivors.

Fleck charged back into the forest, charging through a smoldering grove of aspen leaves. He was focused on the path ahead, keen attention. Not loosing his focus. His tattered sandal caught on a snag of dead wood. He toppled, landing on his right thumb. Fleck winced. Sprained. He stood again, racing off through the burning wood. Just as he neared the tree with Kyle, he heard a cry for help.

Bursting into the clearing, he saw Kyle crushed under a tree trunk. He shouted. And then beyond the tree line burst his twin brother. They were next to Kyle in a second.

now, y'all know Kyle doesn't die. I just wanted to add suspense.

-Fleck