Every one of Tilneys instincts told him to run as fast as he could away from the blaze, but his heart told him to stay. The adrenaline having kicked in, Tilneys legs begun to tremble and shake. Still he was fearful of the flames, their tongues licking at the sky and scaring the stars.
"HELP ME!"
The most blood curdling of screams rang in his ears; finally, a response to the screech of his own. It was enough to kick-start him right out of his fears and doubts. She needs my help! was all he could think, his powering legs sending him forwards into the inferno.
"I'm on my way!"

Plunging through the first line of flames, Tilney bounded through the web of flaming firs. His marble stones took him over fallen logs and skidding into dead-ends. His nares took to the air, trying to catch the scent of the damsel he had plunged into these flames to find. All that came to his splashed muzzle was choking smoke and burning embers. Snorting through the pain, he pressed on in the direction he had first heard the cry. 
It was then he saw her, the pale princess. Unbeknownst to him this was the Lady of the Basin, his former home. "M'lady!" Tilney called to the distressed unicorn, announcing his arrival in hope of comforting her. 
A wall of burning branches and blackened tree limbs separated him from the dancing doe, and so he devised a way to clear them. "Stand back!" was the caramel bucks caution, lowering his barky crown and backing up onto his haunches. Aiming his boney antlers at the coal barrier, he pushed his power from the crease in his hooves to the tips of his horns and with an almighty dive plowed through the glowing mess.
"This way m'lady!" 

It was then the next set of cries filled his ears. His cloven stones slid to a stop, his nose turning to find the screams of a child. "Follow this path... There are a few logs to leap but if you run fast enough the flames shouldn't touch you! I must help this child" Tilney spoke to the peach-coloured princess, and with that he was off back into the heart of the furnace.
"I'm coming little one!" The stag called at the top of his lungs with what little oxygen he had left in them. Plunging over another fallen fir, he found himself in another ring of fire. In the centre was a tiny colt; only a few days old. Marching to the youngin, Tilney dipped his lofty crown and tucked the largest prongs under the foals ribs "Hold on!" Tilney chanted to the little man before he lifted his head, taking the infant with him. He was heavy, but it wasn't unbearable. He was a fraction of Tilneys size.
So many more screams and screeches filled the air, each of them pulling at Tilneys soul. Could he save all of them? He was sure one of them even belonged to Glasgow, but they all sounded quite the same among the smog and smoke.