Deimos
Belial hooted and hissed in dismay, but soldiered on while Deimos rolled his eyes – the peryton persisted in flying ahead to snag at what remained of the flock. But the Sword’s attention was on Kiada, watching for any sign or strain, for the cold to start sapping into her flesh and bones, and maneuvering swiftly to open the door for her. “I have a workshop in the backyard.” She could commit the actions there – and in between, garner enough warmth from the house to make the brief journey back into the cold. Zuriel snorted, aiming to wind her way along the property again.
So he led her through once more, closing the door behind her, feeling the warmth of the home’s hearth permeate, pervade, and surround, before they traced over the foundations of the outer portions – a nestled proportion where he could create at will and not crowd anything else with his experimentations on wood frames or the like. As they entered, she’d find another roaring fire, courtesy of his instantaneous magic, and portions where she could carry out the quest.
So he led her through once more, closing the door behind her, feeling the warmth of the home’s hearth permeate, pervade, and surround, before they traced over the foundations of the outer portions – a nestled proportion where he could create at will and not crowd anything else with his experimentations on wood frames or the like. As they entered, she’d find another roaring fire, courtesy of his instantaneous magic, and portions where she could carry out the quest.
it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites
It's the fire it ignites
