Shake out your boots

Getting to hid paws, the Warlord returned to his knife. Kicking it over into the cooling water, until he judged the hilt cool enough to touch. He picked it up, and placed it back in its sheath. The material melted and disfigured. But, after a short argument, it jammed into place just fine. “Understood” He said briskly to Keahi, and led the way down the mountain. They were still caught in the edges of the storm, and the snow was coming faster now. He kept himself just ahead of Keahi, in place to catch her if she slipped. His feline-like claws were extended, and offered an extra bite into the path as he stepped.

They reached the bottom without fuss, and he led them at a light trott towards the baths. Making his way into the cave, he felt the immediate difference of warm air. He took in a deep breath, feeling it settle into his lungs, before making his way to one of the smaller rooms. Expecting Keahi to follow. He stepped into the warmed water, and felt the burn on his toes. The heated water was definitely one of the things that allowed them to live in the bitter North.


"Sirius Fatalis"