A chisel in a failing fist

Evie

One last stop in her impromptu tour of Torchline before she is to head home to Halo. Admittedly the unnatural chill has made this visit rather lackluster, and she’d only seen the markets once before that. Many seem to have been drawn to Torchline’s sunny beaches over the years, but Evie can’t say she experiences the same pull. In fact the chill only reminds her of home, and encourages her to return there more swiftly.

But first she has a mountain to climb.

Joking, of course. The eruption had ensured ash and volcanic rock alike had stretched down the shoreline in east reach of quest-goers like herself. Wearing dark leggings to combat the inevitable ash fallout, flame-hair tied in a voluminous topknot, the Evergreen gets to work finding the rare loose chunks of volcanic rock in the vein flows.

Cover your crystal eyes
And let your colors bleed and blend with mine

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

Coming home held different connotations this time.

It was still cold, still harsh, still brisk, and she had tucked herself quietly into the modest fur coat she’d snagged in Halo, thoughts rambling upon the latest adventure. What should’ve been something awe-inspiring, between relic snagging and rock giant spying, desecrating, and the Falling actually being somewhat alive…

Her eyes flickered towards her house, and she permitted Sila’s tail to curl around her shoulder a little tighter.

Fangorn followed along as they reached the scale of Apopo, her mind wandering while her feet traversed. Her muscles knew the paths anyway, even if they were occasionally lined in ice, rime, and pockets of snow now, and while her breath plumed out in front of her, she caught a glimpse of another.

Her brow furrowed, spine straightening, wondering if she needed to reach for her weapons by instinct alone, but the fellowship of crimson hair worked out the possibilities and parameters before her hands snagged over bow or staff. “Evie?” Was an inquiry out over the wind – her head tilted vaguely, own locks taken along by the breeze.

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me

Amanda perched over a rift in the volcanic rock. Blazing hot steam rose all around her, making her sweat until her clothes were soaked through. Her left arm had one end of a rope coiled around it, and she gripped it tightly with her fist; the other end was tied around a large rock, holding her in place so she wouldn't fall into the lava below.

She stretched her right arm down towards the lava below. It was as hot as holding her hand right up next to a blazing fire; any closer, and she would get burned. But rather than reach further with her hand, she reached further with her magic, stretching the telekinetic force down into the lava. Through the magic, she could "feel" the intense heat, but it couldn't touch her from here.

She pushed the lava around with the telekinesis, reaching as deep as she could, feeling her way along the volcanic rock underneath the lava flow. When she felt a loose rock with her telekinetic hand, she pulled it up, floating it over the lava. She gave it a few shakes to get rid of most of the dripping lava, then she carefully floated it over to the ground nearby, setting it down with a few other volcanic rocks she had collected. While they began to slowly cool, she turned her attention back to the lava, reaching her telekinesis down into it once more.

When she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, she glanced over to see the redheaded stranger approaching. "Stay back," she warned the stranger, "the rock is loose around here. You don't want to fall in."

Despite her own warning, Amanda continued dangling off the edge of the fissure, feet braced against the very lip of the rock, held steady only by the rope she gripped with all of her might.