continued from here with @adventure-archaeologist
adventure-archaeologist:
Hadrian chuckled, and tugged his furs tighter around his shoulders. “No, no, I’ll survive. Just betrayed by this form.” The wind whipped around them, stinging his face, but he managed a bright smile regardless. “I’m afraid I’m used to warmer climes.”
She laughs too, amused by his comments.
“You’d fair poorly on Jotunheim.” She forgets not everyone is gifted with the ability to warm themselves with magic, nor has everyone had to live on their own and provide such things to themselves over the centuries.
“If’n your nose falls off, you let me know.” Beneath her cloak she wiggles her wings and they rub together and produce some warmth. Even she can feel the frigid bite of the wind through her cloak. She considers a moment, and then pulls something from her pocket; a small glass vial, sealed with a cork, containing what appeared to be fire but in almost a liquid form, sliding along the inside of the glass as she held it out to him. “Drink.”
