several ways to die trying

The younger female soaked up her brother's affections like a hummingbird to sugar water - it gave her strength and energy that she hadn't known she was capable of. Vera gave a soft sigh as Balerion ran his muzzle along her neck, then slowly began to follow him. He was here now. That was all that mattered. The gnawing ache of her stomach could wait just a little bit longer.

"Once I hit the water and came up on the other side, I lost all track of scents. There were days when I wasn't sure how long it had been since the fire... I have nightmares. I am haunted," Vera murmured stoically. She had always been a little superstitious and cryptic, but the stress and trauma of the fire and subsequent loss of her family had pushed her further towards her rituals and superstitions for comfort. It was a way of survival. "You are the first Vaelnaris I have come across, although I once tracked others." She followed behind him a few tail lengths away, too tired to pretend to be able to keep pace with him.

"And you? Have you found others?" There was a hint of desperation to her question. Veraxes needed to believe that they were not the last of the Vaelnaris. She had to, if she was going to survive this strange new world.