That. That. What was that? That was more than fire. That was a star being born, coalesed, captured, infinite, embodied. And it'd reached for her. It'd reached for her. Deliberately. With intent. Not all-encompassing, though it could all-encompass, did she know what she carried, what drove her? Did River?
River hacked and slashed her way through the Uruk-hai, mindless, made of violence, silence them quick and get them out of her head, stab this one with that one's sword, cartwheel back out of the way of that one, hit exactly the right spot to make that one stumble into the next, behead both, take the axe, keep dancing towards the fire.