-- Amathomancy

a m a t h o m a n c y

^{divination using ashes}

Smoke suffocates your lungs and ash clings to your fur, the cinders underfoot scorch your paws and the heat at your back intensifies. Your desperate attempt to escape the wildfire draws near an end as you stumble, weakened and dazed.

That's when you see her. A ghost in the smoke. An angel in the Ashlands. Her eyes, her wings, her paws, they burn cold. She beckons you forward and forges a path through the fire, embers smoldering and extinguishing in her wake, wings beating back the flames that you might follow her, unharmed, out of the forest.

You return to consciousness in the ruins left in the fires wake. Your breath a rasping wheeze, your fur singed, but otherwise unharmed. There is no lioness in sight.