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The suffocating smoke hit us before the fire did. But it wasn't enough of a Warning. We are strong people, we know what to do when we need to do it. When the fires were seen in the distance, bosk were tethered and all animals released for instinct would get them where they needed to go. What could be stuffed in wagons moving was. The power was something I can't remember in my entire life, ever experiencing. The Ubar had the men going as if this was just a string on a Czehar played by a musicians skilled touch. It made me proud to be a Warrior of Tuchuks. The pride wouldn't be savored until later, for now, it was about Tribe.

The first string was played, like the tone that would set the suspense for the song to come. Getting what wagons we could moved, what people we could save, our futures passed to the hands of our past our History, as Elders and Children would be rushed out first in wagon fulls. Water was poured over wheels to keep the wood from getting to dry and hot from the heat that was blistering the closer it got. The sky was turning into a phantom of fears. It seemed to feed of the screams, the anguish, the tears, and the fury.

The second string was one of deep base, cool control, like ice unable to melt in the center of the fire. Men were out digging trenches, taking barrels of water to be released, the ground to wet to try to save what wagons wouldn't be able to be hitched as it was ripping across the plains so fast, bosk lead by the band had to be released for no one would be able to get close to the core wagons. Thralls were unchained and none ran, no, they worked beside men to get the trench wide enough to try to head the fire off from those long lines of wagons rolling across lands still calm.

The third was sharp, enough to make the finger tip sting at its slender strand. Darkness of ash told no one to look back. Voices searching for loved ones, and cries of babies were lost in the crack of wood and bellow of the breeze telling the flames, the test wasn't over yet. One could only lift the flesh that was melting against fingers and place them on the back of the closest wagon. No one that could be saved, dead or alive would be left behind.

The fourth was a sympathy of song coming together. Healers were traveling the wagons of those cramped in them, the hollow wagons lacking people were going towards the front level out the ground for those heavier wagons piled with people to cross smoothly. The smell of smoke was now nothing common breath now. Handing off wet rep cloths to cover the mouths of all until they were far enough away to try to swallow fresh air.

The dancers were the animals of the plains, the birds and the people all in colors of life moving to the music of survival. I could only let my heart sing with its song as my hands and mind were busy working flesh under my own touch, during the challenge of the Sky, her gifts were making us all give praise and rejoice even now. Especially me. I thanked her for every person that breathed still, for every cry of a child that was clearing the smoke from its lungs. For the tears that showed life, and blood that flowed to show its power.

Sweat, blisters, blood and masked my tears. I filled my senses with burned flesh, hair, and trembled screams when I touched. All that was bringing me pain was their own. Their fear not of losing a limb, or the pain that was tearing deep into their bodies. It was of others, and I think I was weeping for them when right now, they couldn't. I was weeping for the stains of breast from new mothers that lacked a babe in arms. Women with soot covered faces hold cloth animals and dolls from children in wagons far ahead, and wishes of mates, Fathers, brothers and Lovers out fighting the flames and leading herds to safety.

I wept. I worked. The faces I saw, the fury of wanting to go grab a shovel and be standing beside my brothers was always a conflict. I knew I was where I should be. My blood was surging with so much inner battle when I found the wagons as my Kaiila feel into the smoke. Seeing Tarra ride up was hope, I would take her beast so I could go help the men. She handed me a woman wrapped in a scarf over her face, what she said, I couldn't hear, but she rode off before I could stop her. I carried in the woman, laying her in the center of the wagon, the young girl who was helping me with those in my personal wagon, came over to take the scarf away from her face. Not sure why it shocked me so much. The Ubar's woman was not conscious. We rolled her to her side, to force lungs to work harder to get the bad air out. The touch of her hot skin was calming. It was strange, even startling. Hot.