@vattendras continued from [ ♥ ]
She was running, not quite sprinting, but certainly hasted as a wicked looking blizzard continues to blow in from the south. Prickles of panic form like frost in her chest, halting in fear as the falling snow begins to cloud her vision, cursing her own underestimation of the weather.
“ Magna incinda. ” The words seem to hover and hum in the frigid air, carried on a misty breath. Then, suddenly, tongues of flame dance from her palms, eyes flashing gold for a blink of an instant if one were paying attention. The heat cuts through the bitter storm and ice, carving a path through the snow, giving her time to catch her bearings, and more importantly, saving her from a wintry death.
Spotting a small pond nearby, the exertion of the chasing storm finally gets to her, a dry, itchy feeling climbing in her throat. When was the last time she stopped for a drink? The mage nears the water, the oddity of it being unfrozen not seeming to register in her state. A waterskin is procured from her pack as she kneels near the bank to fill.











