[Voice reaches before his footsteps do, and heartbeat's murmur slows quickly, finally calmer. The youth's anxiety dissipates.
He's blinking up.]
Fireworks? [O... oh.] You heard all that?
Had he rattled the island? He's sort of looking through Hijikata, then, raised eyes wandering to the fae instead, hearing her stress more anything. The other's too transparent, and Shoto cants his head, thoughtful; listening, examining through ears while trying to scent or sense blood on him, eyes unable to look him over. Then, finding nothing in way of injuries, he moves immediately on the next things said: leaving only trace of chill and lingering colds brushing past again. Dry frost dropping around his boots instead, shedding his last bits of crystal. His answer's a murmur.]
Let's head back then. [Hijikata's so thorough!] I shouldn't have worried about you at all, though. [Not one bit before.] I knew you'd win before we'd started things. [Peering back though it's pointless, soft words keeping an air of distance, something in squire's cautious tone both impassive and measured.] You're in a completely different league from these guys. [As if the fae isn't listening, an almost loathing disregard for both the fae and fae's magics. Not because he's strong himself, but for wasting his mentor's energy. His next's come just about as cold in ways; flat, mixture of truth and harshness both now; here the fae he's glancing back to.]
You're lucky it's just a cough...
[Not the kindest words, honestly; but this is his soft way of scolding, reminding her still to be grateful. It isn't intuition only that whispers what he's capable of. His student vividly recalls the violence promised towards that "wooden" thing; thinks how every fae's fortunate here.]
It's because sensei isn't like you guys. You're only alive because he's kind instead, because he has honor more than anything.
[He says this, though quickening pace hastens sharply, something riling him up so terribly he feels nearly eaten alive in it. And, well... he isn't in best of moods anyways. All this fighting glassing him over again, a little icing shell forming. These monsters meant to kill his sensei—would, he knows, if handed the chance. But gentlest heart's reached its limits, and his feels strained and too fiery, hammering too quickly in bruising-soft mending ribs now. And he thinks, how dare they put sensei in danger again; what a joke of a worthless cause to choose. He's so annoyed his flushing cheeks frost, and so it doesn't help at all how fractured limbs are still setting, knitting themselves to link silently. But Kasha's hopping him in an instant, licking a cheek to pull him present, thawing the heart freezing over.
Completely connected now. Having backtracked towards their starting's point, he's quiet and edgeless in his softening, thawing each fae with cool detachment, fiery palm to frozen structures loosening crushed ice and moonstone. And still he doesn't singe clothes, keeps still-gentled flames mild despite blue's powers to ruin; Kasha growing to free a second before looking to Hijikata, his heavy paw stilling movement. And, though Shoto's calmed again in the interim, he grows ice on sharp fingers, digging in shoulders just enough to send his quiet, clear message:
no subject
He's blinking up.]
Fireworks? [O... oh.] You heard all that?
Had he rattled the island? He's sort of looking through Hijikata, then, raised eyes wandering to the fae instead, hearing her stress more anything. The other's too transparent, and Shoto cants his head, thoughtful; listening, examining through ears while trying to scent or sense blood on him, eyes unable to look him over. Then, finding nothing in way of injuries, he moves immediately on the next things said: leaving only trace of chill and lingering colds brushing past again. Dry frost dropping around his boots instead, shedding his last bits of crystal. His answer's a murmur.]
Let's head back then. [Hijikata's so thorough!] I shouldn't have worried about you at all, though. [Not one bit before.] I knew you'd win before we'd started things. [Peering back though it's pointless, soft words keeping an air of distance, something in squire's cautious tone both impassive and measured.] You're in a completely different league from these guys. [As if the fae isn't listening, an almost loathing disregard for both the fae and fae's magics. Not because he's strong himself, but for wasting his mentor's energy. His next's come just about as cold in ways; flat, mixture of truth and harshness both now; here the fae he's glancing back to.]
You're lucky it's just a cough...
[Not the kindest words, honestly; but this is his soft way of scolding, reminding her still to be grateful. It isn't intuition only that whispers what he's capable of. His student vividly recalls the violence promised towards that "wooden" thing; thinks how every fae's fortunate here.]
It's because sensei isn't like you guys. You're only alive because he's kind instead, because he has honor more than anything.
[He says this, though quickening pace hastens sharply, something riling him up so terribly he feels nearly eaten alive in it. And, well... he isn't in best of moods anyways. All this fighting glassing him over again, a little icing shell forming. These monsters meant to kill his sensei—would, he knows, if handed the chance. But gentlest heart's reached its limits, and his feels strained and too fiery, hammering too quickly in bruising-soft mending ribs now. And he thinks, how dare they put sensei in danger again; what a joke of a worthless cause to choose. He's so annoyed his flushing cheeks frost, and so it doesn't help at all how fractured limbs are still setting, knitting themselves to link silently. But Kasha's hopping him in an instant, licking a cheek to pull him present, thawing the heart freezing over.
Completely connected now. Having backtracked towards their starting's point, he's quiet and edgeless in his softening, thawing each fae with cool detachment, fiery palm to frozen structures loosening crushed ice and moonstone. And still he doesn't singe clothes, keeps still-gentled flames mild despite blue's powers to ruin; Kasha growing to free a second before looking to Hijikata, his heavy paw stilling movement. And, though Shoto's calmed again in the interim, he grows ice on sharp fingers, digging in shoulders just enough to send his quiet, clear message:
Hurt the knight, and I'll cause an ice-age.