Singed and exhausted, Astrid ducks her head in the last bucket of water and scrubs her face clean. Snotlout blathers about the soot bringing out her eyes and Tuffnut adds yeah, like a polecat's and his sister gives him a shiner to match. If only they'd all shut up: her ears are still ringing from the roar of the flames that devoured two longhouses.
She escapes to the headland above the harbor where a red dawn scatters its embers across the waves. Shutting her eyes, Astrid opens her mouth to the sea breeze to rinse the taste of smoke away.
Author's Note: "Ocean's fire" is a kenning for gold; the image of a woman bedecked in that metal is common in Old Norse poetry. (I've cheated a little here by alluding to sunrise over the water as another form of ocean's fire, as well as the effects of dragonfire on a coastal village. My artistic license is current.) "Land of ocean's fire" comes from an anonymous verse life of St. Peter, Pétrsdrápa.