HOTARU
Hotaru is only too familiar with the frustration he feels, recalling the horrible learning curve she'd experienced when she'd first received her ball-lightning magic. Such a difficult skill to master, not that the hurricanes had been much easier. Especially when uncontrollable elements impart themselves upon you in the worst kind of way and tear down your finely honed efforts. As such she does not comment upon it yet again, waiting for the fires to die out against the stone as it consumes what remains of the foliage, leaving behind dark scorchmarks but with no fear of setting off a forest fire. Not that it was much of a worry as Deimos promptly douses it with conjured water, his nonchalance suspicious.
Hotaru waves it off, giving him the space he needs to seethe over his failure as she counts the squirrels at her hip. "I think we have more than enough, care for some larger game? Or would you like to cook them up now?" No need for such things like pots and tables for these two, so well-absorbed in the entanglement of nature as they are. Fire and a spit is more than enough for Hotaru despite her pattern of indulgence and opulence.
Hotaru waves it off, giving him the space he needs to seethe over his failure as she counts the squirrels at her hip. "I think we have more than enough, care for some larger game? Or would you like to cook them up now?" No need for such things like pots and tables for these two, so well-absorbed in the entanglement of nature as they are. Fire and a spit is more than enough for Hotaru despite her pattern of indulgence and opulence.
mother, make me a big grey cloud
so I can rain on you all the things
that I can't say out loud
