such fire was not by water to be drowned

[kings_dog]

The afternoon was torpid with heat, and everything was unnaturally still in the oppressive humidity. Here in the forest, the quiet was almost eerie-- animals were hiding in caves and boles of trees, seeking shade, and most humans with half a brain had gone swimming or were hiding in the Compound. You could walk for quite a while without seeing

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[kings_dog]

His cloak was near dry from the heat of the flames and all the dirt and ash getting slapped into it. He had to go to the river, but he was afraid if he went he wouldn't be able to make himself come back. Instead he threw it at Cuthbert, snarling. "Get that in the river and bring it back," he shouted, and jogged the circumference of the fire, trying to discern if it had spread at all. Bert ran toward the stream, and as Sandor came around to his original position he saw someone burst through the trees, and with a forceful jerk of his arm motioned for the man to get the hell over to the fire and help.

[fortuneforbid]

No man at all nor even boy, for all that Sandor does not know the difference. In all the sound and fury-- the alarum and Sir Toby's terrified flight from it-- Viola can scarce think, and yet she runs 'gainst her better judgement toward the commotion and not from it. Once past the trees, the sight of the fire be cause enough for her to reel back, wide-eyed, but Sandor's impatience doth break the paralytic effect of smoke and heat and everywhere, everywhere, flames.

If she were but half as smart as she were bold, she might have turned back; sure her efforts would have been better spent finding more useful help than she.

"What would you?" Viola asks, desperate for orders, banishing from her voice all trace of quavering though with some effort, for the fire is near enough at hand to feel as though her face be aflame already from the heat of 't.

[kings_dog]

There was one blanket the fire had not claimed, and he ran to pull it from Stranger's back, thrusting it at the boy as he returned. "Get to the stream, that way," he barked, his voice already hoarse from the smoke. It was a relief, of sorts, seeing another familiar face; yet his impulse was to order the boy as far away from the fire as he could get. But he could not deny he needed the help. He pointed at one of the crates nearby."Fill that while you're at it," he said, and turned away coughing.

[saikamai]

Cuthbert ran, reaching the clearing and tossing the blanket onto the bulk of the flames, then moving in and smothering them. He'd set fires in the woods as a boy, of course-- he'd liked to get them just large enough to set his heart hammering when he thought he might not be able to put them out fast enough. Not to mention the small blazes he and Alain had caused setting off the big-bangers, the fire on Cort's thatched roof

[iwhinny4dragons]

The smell and sounds of the fire were unmistakable. When you'd spent the bulk of your adult life putting them out, and raising the things that caused them, one developed sort of knack.

She strode toward the pillar of flame and the people scrambling madly around it, and barked, voice rebounding off every solid surface for miles, it seemed, "Knock it down! You've got to get the whole of it low to ground as possible, then smother the flames with the soil!" She set down the basket she'd been collecting volcanic rocks in, to feed Errol with later, shoved her sleeves up to the bell-drape of them was to her shoulders and her forearms were bare, and then hefted up an awkwardly long, but thick and heavy branch.

[kings_dog]

Sandor's head jerked around; the voice was unmistakable. She wasn't gamely leading a procession of terrified islanders to safety, but still, her tendency to show up at difficult and panic-inducing times was something Sandor had to be grateful for.

But this was not a moment for expressing things like gratitude. He ran to take the branch from her, grabbing it like a fighting staff with both hands. "Stay back," he warned, his voice as forceful a growl as he could make it, before whirling back to the fire.

[iwhinny4dragons]

"Well I'm not about to get closer," she said in a brick-and-mortar strength tone that nonetheless conveyed good cheer and common sense. She lifted her skirt1 and knelt, beginning to sweep armfuls of thick, sandy dirt into it in preparation of smothering the fire.

1 She did this without hesitation because she as wearing, as ever, a slip beneath, and so there were no issues of propriety.

[kings_dog]

As he was digging the trench around the fire, he flipped the dirt inward onto the flames, ending up back near where she stood. He rested the axe on the ground and paused for a moment to catch his breath, elusive as it was. "What now," he breathed, his eyes searching the blaze for tall places where he could knock it down like she'd said. But they were all too far in, farther in than he would ever go no matter how drenched or drunk he was. He was too afraid, and too full of adrenaline to even feel the shame that accompanied the fear. He just wanted someone to tell him what to do, so he could do it and be done.

aftermath

[kings_dog]

It was mostly out now. Smoke still wisped through the clearing, and the smell of char was overpowering. But Sybil had confirmed it was on its way out, and so Sandor dropped the axe and stumbled to the large rock near Stranger's palm-roofed shelter, sitting down heavily and dropping his head into his palms. The adrenaline was coursing through him still, thick and cold, and he was sure if his hands were not pressed to his face, they would be shaking.

Re: aftermath

[cantstopmoving]

The burn on his calf will need attention, but it doesn't concern him now. Instead he makes his way to the side of the camp's owner. In the wake of a crisis, even the strongest may collapse. His job has always been not to. Or at least to be the last to do it.

Crouching, Dick holds out the drinking water he'd left in reserve. There's plenty.

Re: aftermath

[kings_dog]

Sandor took the water with fingers that felt numb, and had a drink. He'd have preferred wine, but there would be time for that later. The reek of smoke clung to him, making him feel ill. If the sea was closer he'd throw himself in, just to rid himself of the smell, close enough to put him in mind of his own charred flesh, something he'd never forgotten even twenty years later. "My thanks," he said, his voice a dry growl, but as sincere as he'd ever thanked anyone in his life.

Re: aftermath

[cantstopmoving]

"None needed," Dick answers, smoke-rough but genuine and not demurring. As soon as he heard the horn there'd been no other choice. What he did is who he is, with or without appreciation. He tilts his chin toward the boys and the ruin, easily distancing himself from the stench of smoke and char; it's nothing on the smell of scorched circus. "My apologies if I overstepped back there."