Weaver
Time is the substance from which I am made.
Time is a river which carries me along,
but I am the river;
Time is a river which carries me along,
but I am the river;
She’s taken to practicing in remote locations. Today, since she happens to be in the Grounds, she goes exploring. It takes her a while to find the Oasis, but the place is not heavily populated and thankfully near water if she happens to lose control. Halo really was far more ideal for practicing with fire magic, since it was rather hard to set the snow on fire, but she is here and the magic in her veins itches to be used.
Weaver sits down, tucking her hands beneath her so she can’t use them. She picks the position so she can’t really use anything to help her, because she’s been trying to get used to using only her mind to work the magic. It would be vastly more useful in battle to learn to hurl fireballs while wielding her scythe (which possibly would also be on fire).
The day is crisp and cool, Leafchange beginning to turn into Deepfrost. She won’t be out when the weather gets colder really, given how impossible travel to the portal will be. Though she doesn’t mind. The Kraai should be up and running by then, and she’ll have her hands full enough anyway. But today she is going to enjoy the sun and the bit of warmth left in the air. In front of her, a ball of fire forms. She doesn’t try to make pretty things, but simply pushes the ball further, further, testing to see just how far her power extends.
Weaver sits down, tucking her hands beneath her so she can’t use them. She picks the position so she can’t really use anything to help her, because she’s been trying to get used to using only her mind to work the magic. It would be vastly more useful in battle to learn to hurl fireballs while wielding her scythe (which possibly would also be on fire).
The day is crisp and cool, Leafchange beginning to turn into Deepfrost. She won’t be out when the weather gets colder really, given how impossible travel to the portal will be. Though she doesn’t mind. The Kraai should be up and running by then, and she’ll have her hands full enough anyway. But today she is going to enjoy the sun and the bit of warmth left in the air. In front of her, a ball of fire forms. She doesn’t try to make pretty things, but simply pushes the ball further, further, testing to see just how far her power extends.
it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger;
it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.
it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.
