Burning everything--probably a good thing. Just not with them inside. No. And really, there's still something Bran needs to do, and it's not pretty. He'd have done this first, but really there was no time.

Not that there really is now, either, but he's going to do his best--already starting to, crouching in Rara Avis over the nearest human body--it's less horror-movie schtick and more respectful--his beak's not moving, but it's almost as if he's saying a silent prayer--before he shrinks down into full Corvid, head cocked as if listening.

Seems he's gotten an answer, too. Don't look, Bobbie. Because snip-snap, first he's dropped his beak into one of the poor corpse's eyes, gobbling it down as if it were his job, then shuffling awkwardly around to do the same to the other. And then taking equally awkward flight, unlike him, to tug on Bobbie's shoulder and attempt to drag her out as the building burns, before flopping to the ground outside, out of the reach of sparks that might set his feathers alight.

Say, that's a big ol' raven...