[He desperately misses the Circle, right about now.
Sure, he's missed it for a while, but nothing makes him long for a nice, secure, dry tower quite like almost being stepped on by a pack animal. Or stepping in mud up to his calves. Or water gathering in his shoes. Or-
He could go on, and he has been the entire time. Lucky you.]
-we're positive this is an animal and not a demon? Could have fooled me, I swear it almost looks smug.
[And right on cue, the donkey stops. He curses under his breath, giving the rope a tug.]
This was not what I signed on for.
4.
[So here's the thing about throwing ice around at pursuing wildlife when it's wet out: it's pretty damned effective, but not only on his enemies. Ryan's returned with crystals of frost still clinging to his clothes and his long braid, damp and exhausted and downright miserable-- and he has no problem nudging people aside with those cold, cold hands. He needs it more than they do, thanks, he's worn himself out too much to use magic to heat himself back up.]
Sorry, sorry- pardon me-- oh, come off it, you'll live, it's just a bit of cold...
[...it's still awfully crowded, though, and he reaches a point where he's going to have to dislodge someone if he wants to have a seat near the warmth. So.]
Ah- 'scuse me. I don't suppose you'd mind moving over?
ryan farrow | native oc | still working out wtf i'm doing
[He desperately misses the Circle, right about now.
Sure, he's missed it for a while, but nothing makes him long for a nice, secure, dry tower quite like almost being stepped on by a pack animal. Or stepping in mud up to his calves. Or water gathering in his shoes. Or-
He could go on, and he has been the entire time. Lucky you.]
-we're positive this is an animal and not a demon? Could have fooled me, I swear it almost looks smug.
[And right on cue, the donkey stops. He curses under his breath, giving the rope a tug.]
This was not what I signed on for.
4.
[So here's the thing about throwing ice around at pursuing wildlife when it's wet out: it's pretty damned effective, but not only on his enemies. Ryan's returned with crystals of frost still clinging to his clothes and his long braid, damp and exhausted and downright miserable-- and he has no problem nudging people aside with those cold, cold hands. He needs it more than they do, thanks, he's worn himself out too much to use magic to heat himself back up.]
Sorry, sorry- pardon me-- oh, come off it, you'll live, it's just a bit of cold...
[...it's still awfully crowded, though, and he reaches a point where he's going to have to dislodge someone if he wants to have a seat near the warmth. So.]
Ah- 'scuse me. I don't suppose you'd mind moving over?