"I wouldn't call that much of a choice," Ghent grumbled, yelping as he overheard the moan. He lifted the piece of wood over his head, ready to swing at the first thing that moved. The ghost sounded closer than the previous ones, leading him to believe one had managed to slip into the Safe Zone.
	After the nonexistent threat passed, Ghent held the log against his chest, knuckles white. He wished Margen was there. 
	Ghent turned, startled as Elayra admitted she could no longer remember the name. He grimaced at the replacement word, shifting his weight to his other foot. He didn't like where this was going. 
	[i]How could you forget?![/i] Ghent wanted to scream. He tried to remind himself that Elayra was only human. She couldn't be expected to know and remember everything, no matter how dire the situation was. He closed his eyes and forced himself to remain calm. Panicking wouldn't solve anything.
	"Okay. I'll give it a shot." Seeing no other choice, Ghent dragged his feet over to the pile of wood. He crouched in front of the structure, splaying his fingers out over the center pocket. "Igniculous summons the fire, extinguo puts it out," he repeated Elayra's instructions, speaking slowly and clearly. "Igniculous, fire. Extinguo, puts out fire. That's easy enough."
	Despite his attempt at a pep talk, his nerves were on edge. He couldn't help himself and cut a glance toward the shadowy figure of Drust.
	From what Ghent could tell, the Knight remained on the ground. That was a relief. Ghent faced the woodpile again, shaking his head. He needed to leave Drust to Elayra, no matter how difficult.
	Taking a moment to plan, Ghent chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. He wondered if his volume had anything to do with the power of the magic. In the past, his panic lead him to practically shouting each focus word. He decided to try speaking calmly and carefully.
	Ghent moved his hands closer to the woodpile, taking in a breath. He focused on what he believed the CottonTail looked like. Small, soft. A glorified cotton ball. It was the only thing he allowed himself to think about.
	As he opened his mouth to speak, his throat constricted. He didn't want to cause another disaster, but he also didn't want to sit in the dark. Not to mention, it was cold. Much colder than even an hour before.
	"Ig..." Ghent swallowed. He felt the magic answering him, the same excitable, undisciplined pulse he felt when he last reached out to it. He cleared his throat, determined to stay composed. He had to get rid of the magic before it grew unstable.
	Scrunching his eyes shut, Ghent spoke hastily, but quietly. "Igniculous!"