A joy hard-learned in winter was the warming of the bed
You'd shake for minutes there and move your legs
You'd shake for minutes there and move your legs
"How'd you guess?" Koa drawls, copper eyes rolling as he arches his brow. Why he'd ever thought he'd favor Ludo remains beyond the boy, but he's not going to let his (healthy, wise) fear of the herald keep him from his tasks.
As for which magic he'd rather face? Koa swallows at Deimos's calm demeanor, remembering keenly how it felt to face that wild fire. "Whichever won't ruin my clothes, I guess?" Life Drain, presumably, though if that isn't some ominous sounding shit he doesn't know what is.
As for protection? Setting his jacket neatly on a nearby bench, he starts in on the buttons of his flannel shirt. "I've got this--" he begins, as soft grey appears like Frodo's mithril beneath his widening collar "-which is what I'm trying to strengthen. Doubt it'll stand much of a chance against your full strength, though."
It's a few more seconds and then he's undressed, the mothman shirt clinging to his chest, goosbumps rising on his bare arms. Fingering the hem of his soft shirt, he twists his lips in thought. "How's one supposed to avoid magic, anyway? Or counter it, as an Accepted?" The image of one mage in particular flashes through his mind, and Koa clenches his teeth at the flicker of anger he feels in response. One day, Jack. One day.
As for which magic he'd rather face? Koa swallows at Deimos's calm demeanor, remembering keenly how it felt to face that wild fire. "Whichever won't ruin my clothes, I guess?" Life Drain, presumably, though if that isn't some ominous sounding shit he doesn't know what is.
As for protection? Setting his jacket neatly on a nearby bench, he starts in on the buttons of his flannel shirt. "I've got this--" he begins, as soft grey appears like Frodo's mithril beneath his widening collar "-which is what I'm trying to strengthen. Doubt it'll stand much of a chance against your full strength, though."
It's a few more seconds and then he's undressed, the mothman shirt clinging to his chest, goosbumps rising on his bare arms. Fingering the hem of his soft shirt, he twists his lips in thought. "How's one supposed to avoid magic, anyway? Or counter it, as an Accepted?" The image of one mage in particular flashes through his mind, and Koa clenches his teeth at the flicker of anger he feels in response. One day, Jack. One day.
Koa Carpenter
Wrap the blanket over you and keep your head within
Let your breath heat the air until you'd feel it getting thin
Let your breath heat the air until you'd feel it getting thin
