[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220125/3df6e6e554618b73c4d18ce14aa937c2.png[/img][/center] [indent][indent][indent] [color=gray][sub][right][color=white][b]Location:[/b][/color] Uhladein, Eastern Marches [/right][/sub][/color] [hr] Dizzy and burned, the end was very much a blur to Rain. Her shield-bearing savior all but peeled her off the ground—a fair bit of skin and muscle was left behind, melted into the heat-packed dirt—and gave her a compliment that didn’t sink in until well after she’d run off to be awesome elsewhere. For a while Rain just stood there in a daze, staring blankly after the pink warrior. Thank god her throat was utterly immolated, or she might have said something stupid like, ‘[i][COLOR=92278f]Thank you for making me not die,[/color][/i]’ or ‘[i][COLOR=92278f]Big,[/color][/i]’ or ‘[i][COLOR=92278f]Can I ride on your shoulders.[/color][/i]’ Eventually she lurched and hacked up a lungful of bloody pulp. “[COLOR=92278f]Ow,[/color]” she grumbled, spotting chips of bone in the meat. Wet ash caked the inside of her mouth. Oh well, at least her voice was back. That was it then, right? They’d won? The storm had let up and all the ugly lil’ fuckers were melting away. It was quiet. It only ever got quiet before someone threw a sucker punch. Whatever, she’d be ready. No one and no [i]thing[/i] got the drop on Rain on My Skin, Ice in My Mouth. Scooping up puddles of rainwater, she splashed the ash and muck from her face, scrubbed it from her sleeves and shook it from her hair. With a little stoking of her ember, she flash-heated. Her skin dried, her hair fluffed back out, and the enchantments woven into her uniform—identical to the ones in her claws—thrummed as the fabric dried but did not burn. She passed soldiers along the way, rare smatterings of those who had not made it back to the keep, but who had also survived the slaughter outside. They looked exhausted. The few who weren’t splayed on their backs, who sat upright or leaned against the rubble, were dirty and bloody and shaking with cold. Rain had almost forgotten what cold felt like—real cold, pit cold. The rain could cool but never quench, as ice could chill but never soothe. As she marched past them she stoked her ember hotter, radiating warmth so that they might thaw in her wake. It hurt a bit, but she didn't show it, only puffed up and grinned—didn’t want them getting the wrong idea or anything. The Hearth was still standing, which was more than could be said for most of the city. Better days behind, better days ahead, and all that. She threw open the door to the common area at its base. “[COLOR=92278f]Uglydein![/color]” she announced. “[COLOR=92278f]Your hero has returned![/color]” She strutted across the room, between tables of battered soldiers and ragged pyromancers, preening and flexing her muscles. “[COLOR=92278f]Because I am beneb…benvolen…because I’m [i]nice[/i], I’ll only take the teeth you already lost! That means if you find any on the ground, [i]leave’em![/i] I’ll pick’em up when I feel like it. And—[/color]” Rain gasped as she caught sight of a hunter leaning against a cannon bigger than she was, and then again, louder, as a gangly, cloaked figure made her entrance. No sword, but the white hair and general air of misery were a sure giveaway. Her noble act was dropped instantly, and Rain dashed across the room. “[COLOR=92278f]Hey! Hey Granny![/color]” she shouted, heedless for volume. As she came skidding to a halt in front of the tall woman, she had to stop herself from saying something stupid, like, ‘[i][COLOR=92278f]Thank you for making me not die,[/color][/i]’ or ‘[i][COLOR=92278f]Big,[/color][/i]’ or ‘[i][COLOR=92278f]Can I ride on your shoulders.[/color][/i]’ The disbelief helped; she was hardly able to string a sentence together through her own excitement. Instead, all she managed was a loud, incredulous: “[COLOR=92278f]You exploded![/color]”[/indent][/indent][/indent]