Upon lost trails do we weave
Standing stoic 'midst twisted trees
Smoke rises from embers gently burning
Who are we who dabble in fear? As the shadows draw ever near
Just as the full darkness of nightfall enclosed around them, Lystra and Belt made the gates of the Flaming Fist Fort. Despite seeing no sign of continued pursuit for the majority of their flight, they had not slowed their mounts, fearful that their foe may have some unseen trick up their sleeve.