Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy

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September 5th 2017 in Microfiction

After the evening news, the texts began. Several arrived by port key, traveling light; others were flying in by more traditional means and would report for a shift when they arrived. Uniforms were distributed at Headquarters so that they would fit in with the rest of the Forest Service teams seamlessly. “Thank you so much for coming, guys; this turnout is amazing,” Max said, smiling at the crowd and wondering if Ilvermorny had completely emptied out. “This is a dangerous situation; the fires are everywhere at this point. Weather witches, where possible, we need you out of the path of any blaze, but pulling whatever you can across land from the ocean to bring rain … without causing a tidal wave, Drew.” Max looked over at Drewson Caves and got a laugh. “Ground crew, we need you icing the upstarts and starving the raging mess of oxygen without suffocating anybody. Tricky business.” One by one, the audience transformed; where there had once been a happy mix of teens and teachers in robes and capes were veteran fire fighters in helmets and gear. “Most of all, we need you safe,” Max said, breathing deeply as they started individually transporting to their coordinates. “We’re family.”


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