Smoke hung in the air, the sky, orange from the fire in the distance. The horses huffed with each step, exhausted. A cough bleated out from behind me. Inside the cart, a young boy lay, burns up his arm, legs and face. “It will be alright, Lad. We’ll be there soon”, murmured the old driver, comfortingly. He reminisced on when he found the boy caught in a wildfire that was storming up the valley, engulfing towns like one would do with breadcrumbs. The smoke parted from the path, showing a small river which would lead to a place of safety.

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