//excuse me what

He had to go with her. If their rescue mission found anyone, they could be injured, and Pip methodically packed supplies for burns, even though he wasn't certain how to even go about someone who might have...come into contact with lava. That had always seemed an impossibility, and he never found it in any of his books, yet here he was now, about to follow his sister to a place flowing with it. Pip couldn't lie to himself- he was scared. Scared Goldie, not yet recovered, might worsen her condition by straining herself, or that the lava would get to her and he would be left alone. Their father was gone, he hadn't seen the rest of his siblings in so long- what was he meant to do if something happened to her? On his watch?

But he couldn't cower in fear. There were people who needed their help, and he couldn't give it to them if he was panicking, so he kept a brave face as best he could, breathing carefully when they drew closer. They would need to be careful of the fumes. Their lungs could be easily overwhelmed.

The young canine hopped out after her, careful with his satchel. "I hope we find someone, but if anyone has a hard time breathing, let me know. This smoke could be dangerous."
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An unfortunate situation to find himself in, but not... The end of the world.  The gears in the fae's mind turned rapidly, churning with possible ideas and methods of escaping the volcano's path of destruction in the wake of finding himself stranded.  He could easily carry Suvi like this, but not in his natural form and he had not practiced shifting in some time now.  A no-go then.

He frowned, brows furrowed.  He should not have stayed behind, especially when he'd been fully aware of the time ticking by before the evacuation went underway, but no force in heaven or hell could have held him back from his daughter.  The frightened pup ranked priority one.  Only priority.

So when his burning eyes spotted movement, he blinked, ears flicking back.  Careful, Goldie, he thinks, muscles tense.  The fretful wolf is displeased, worried and anxious to see the feline out here amidst the danger, but he had a feeling no one could have changed her mind.  "Goldie!" He coughed roughly, raising his voice as loud as he could.  "Over here!"

Squinting, he lowered his head, aiming to very softly nudge his frightened daughter forward.  "See them, a stór? It's going to be okay, alright?"

© LEXASPERATED

"Please be careful," he said again, as his sister began to head down the beach, and he swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the heaviness somewhere between his throat and his chest. Pip began setting out some of his supplies, ones he could leave behind if they needed to evacuate quickly should the flames spread too far. He had bandages soaked in clean water and some aloe vera. It wasn't much, but if they were burned severely, he could only keep the burns from worsening while they were here- it'd be better for him to treat severe injuries in safety, away from the smoke and flames.

A dark shadow shrouded him for a very brief moment, and when he glanced up, he was startled to see a shape that hadn't been around for a while. Lucifer? He was a blessing, his wings allowing him to easily access blocked areas, and he watched him land at the source of a shout he'd heard. Good. They were able to help some people after all. Pip hoped they weren't too badly injured, but he would do all he could.

The young canine searched for his sister's form again, to make certain she was all right, but he caught her only for a second as she ventured into the jungle. The weight in his chest sunk deeper, and Pip scrambled after her, along the hot sand and into the trees. "Goldie?" He called, and he heard a thunderous crack that vibrated through his bones, kicking his heart into a fleeing-rabbit pace. Still, he ventured closer, because if Goldie were injured- he had to find her. But there was only Maisie, on the sand, and Pip rushed in, attempting to pull the younger raptor back.

And then the scream.

The heaviness fell into his gut. He was suddenly cold, then hot, and cold again, paralyzed, smoke stinging his eyes, polluting his lungs. The- the smell. It had smelled similarly when he'd gotten between Caesar's fireball and the stranger, but this was worse. It was thicker, and tears readily tumbled down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the soot. He couldn't make a sound, his breath trembling in his throat, and his body quivered, a bowstring pulled too taut. The fire rose higher, and there was no sign of Goldie. No sign of his sister.

He heard a sound- a pathetic hoarse, reedy, and scraped sound he couldn't recognize from his own mouth. He staggered backwards in a sudden lurch of a movement, still trying to bring Maisie with him, but there was hardly any strength in his legs, weakened like the boughs of the trees in the fire. Pip's body sagged down, more of those wretched little gasps wobbling off his tongue. The flames shook in front of him, edges blurred by the keeling tears building and spilling.

Pip pitched forward, staggering toward the wall of fire, trying to find her in the burning, but he knew he was breathing her in. He knew the scent of eaten fur and flesh was hers, that the scream was hers-

And it was his fault. "Goldie," he keened, barely drawing enough clean air to sob, each one shaking his shoulders and tightening his throat. Sorrysorrysorry. His heart branded the mantra into his ribs, and he felt it with each hitched breath.
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