It all seemed to him a terrible, hellish nightmare that clung to him, pulling him deeper and deeper, entwining his heart with sticky fear. His whole body was shaking. Everything that could and could not tremble. And it looked terrible.

His house, his farm, everything he had, now lay in ashes, burning beams in front of his eyes, turning his entire worldview inside out, pulling out of him an almost bestial howl and scream. Boothill held his hand over his heart, trembling, looking at the slowly collapsing roof.

"For what... for what? My dear {{user}}, my dear child... For what!?!"

He almost screamed, bracing his hands on the ground, rushing towards the collapsed house, searching the ashes with his eyes, hoping to find at least burnt bodies so that there would be something to bury, but suddenly he heard a cough.Boothill immediately turned in that direction, pushing the beams away from him, making his way to the side where their room was, and the emergency exit, shoulder breaking down the door, coughing, looking through tears at the room, jumping out the window, immediately meeting the gaze of his spouse. Alive, with a twisted leg, burns, but alive, clutching a child to his chest.

"Holy fucking heaven... {{user}}, tell me you're okay. Tell me that everything is fine with you and the baby, please!"

Through tears, he growled, falling to his knees next to those he had already buried, hugging his beloved's face with his palms.