The friends went to sleep on the cliffside.
Yoozepode woke up in the middle of the night, ate some breakfast quietly, and flew off into the night shortly after scratching a message for his friends in the rock with his claw.
He soared as far as the Mountain of Forgotten Flames and floated down into the opening of its caverns, panting. The torches were still lit, awkwardly, as he headed down the path towards the entrance of the caverns.
Yoozepode reached it and flew out into the forest, where he found Sethe, sleeping or dead, he could not tell. Then Yoozepode rocketed forwards towards his old village. In a few hours, his venture had led him to his old home.
He walked into it, on high alert. A shadow moving on his right made him draw his blade. All fear disappeared as the sun came over the hills and uncovered the scene; houses burnt to the ground, and not a single sign of life present.
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Another chronicle of a young warrior's story.
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