Kamek hugged his shoulders. Usually, he didn’t mind rain, but when he was standing in the middle of nowhere with that meddlesome Mario out of all people… He could imagine nicer, or preferably less nice things. The wizard rested a hand against his forehead, seeming rather out of breath himself, perhaps even more so than Mario. Once he managed to properly control his breathing again, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat, he straightened his stance, using his magic scepter as a cane of sorts to support his weight as he stood, turning his head to glance at the plumber who seemed just as displeased to see him.
“No.” The wizard answered in response to the well-known hero’s question. “Whatever it was, it–!” There was a pause. What would stop Mario from attacking him if he admitted that none of is magic appeared to be working anymore? He couldn’t attack. He couldn’t teleport. He couldn’t even summon his broomstick in order to fly. He was all around defenseless and soaking wet. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was trembling. “…We should depart before I have to vomit from looking at you for too long.” The mage eventually resorted to his usual, petty insults and resumed a walk. He hardly even cared if Mario was coming along. He had to report this to Bowser. As fast as possible, preferably.
☆ - “Guess our ideas weren’t all-a that different after all.” Conflicting emotions played a primary end to their personal dilemma. The time and place for them to end their business was far, very far off from their current state. No amount of anger held would make him stoop to lows as searching for a instance of vulnerability, weakness about foes who he intend to triumph over fair and square. Yet not for a second would those snide words continuously echo within the depths of his mind.
Their real challenge laid in the issue of progression. Judging by their position, civilization wasn’t too far off but the relentless weather would pummel them down into unconsciousness if they continued carelessly. A strange road of responsibility was waged as two separate ends clash. Leaving this man to deal with his devices after their tag team wasn’t.. right. Pain wracked him for even considering that. Deep down the heroism that beat within his veins knew that leaving him to possibly perish would be against everything he stood for.
Not when he owed him a small thank you for the help.
So by the Magikoopa’s side would be the tired steps of the plumber, keeping up with his pace their path would the soaked badlands began. “But that will have to-a wait a bit longer.”
“If we even want to find another next time for us to finish things, we both are going to have to work-a through this. I know-a shell for brains would throw a fit if he couldn’t find you.”
