Damon teleported into the cloud of dust that had exploded, his form cutting through the lingering sand as it scraped against his armor. He scanned through the haze, his eyes quickly finding the bodies of the two unconscious siblings.
They were holding onto each other tightly, arms wrapped as if afraid to let go even in sleep, their breathing faint but steady.
He crouched beside them at once and checked them carefully, his hands hovering over their chests and limbs.
They were healing.
His gaze shifted to the empty vials scattered across the sand nearby.
"They accounted for the damage to their bodies and took the healing potions beforehand."
That had been Lyn's decision, made before Sithara had set off the explosion.
Lazarak stood a short distance away, staring at the dead and broken remains of the sand spitter. Its fur had ignited completely, blackened and burned away, the creature unable to withstand the violent expulsion and torn apart by it.
