“Almost there,” Dawn mutters as she finishes climbing the rope.
With Kara strapped to her back and their supply bags hanging from her arms, she barely has the strength to pull herself out of the hole. The ground is littered with feathers and chunks of meat left by the ravens, which can still be seen flying in the distance. A single set of large prints are near the edge of the broken earth, the tracks the only sign that the large bird ever existed. Not wanting to fall back into the decimated cavern, Dawn crawls towards a nearby stream and dunks her head into the water. She immediately comes up coughing and gagging, the taste reminding her of the ocean and leaving her tongue burning. To her relief, she hears Kara yawn and begin mumbling, which are the first sounds the girl has made in the last few hours. Undoing the rope harness, she puts her companion next to her and lazily flops onto her back to stare at the evening sky. She is surprised to see the stars gradually appear with no extra constellations, the normal sight giving her an odd sense of peace. The effect is nearly lost when the moon comes out as full, but sheds enough of itself to become a crescent.