The fires burned long after the sun set, the flames dancing and writhing in an almost unholy joy as they reached up to the stars. Tynan stood beside Feather as the grimly watched the flames, the warm light seeming to glint in her jewel blue eyes as if they themselves held flames. Tynan wondered how long it would take for those flames to be extinguished. After a while, he walked away into the dark forest, leaving Feather with Adam by her side.

"The miners were wrong, you know," Adam said matter-of-factly as he watched the flames with Feather. "The Araawans didn't kill those foragers." He looked up at her, his face lit by the flames as around them, the forest came alive as the shadows darkened. "But the miners are dead now, it doesn't matter. The things that were responsible will be forgotten, because blood spilled will demand blood as payment." He looked to be no older than seven years of age, yet his words were far wiser than his years.

There was something different about this child.

A voice broke the silence. "We should get back to the den." Tynan said as he re-emerged from the trees. "Something's terrifying the animals, everything's hiding for miles around - I hardly think a funeral pyre's scary enough to terrify everything up here but the wolves and cougars. It won't be safe here for long." Adam stretched his arms out to Tynan, who silently picked up the boy and carried him in the crook of a muscular arm.