"Uhm, Lisanna," Wendi murmured to the girl whose eyes were already fading.

"... Yes?"

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to be so selfish...! I ended up telling them about the furs... just because I wanted one..."

"... It worked out and he doesn't seem mad."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have done it... a-and... I even... I even used him to experiment with the magic...!"

"... But... you got... hurt, too, right?"

"I really just couldn't feel a thing... honestly. From here on, I'll be sure to help you though!"

"... Help... how?"

"I have my ways! Is it okay, though? I don't want to intrude too much."

"... Sure..."

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

Lisanna murmured, finally falling asleep on the fur that she lay under. Wendi was a little disappointed that the conversation lasted only a few moments, but since she was sharing Lisanna's bed, with her own fur, she felt an inexplicable urge to sleep - despite waking from a long nap a few hours prior.

She succumbed to that urge.

Mathias was stead-fastly concentrating on the project, attempting to shift ice and water into the forms of sparks and flames. It was a very, very trying task.

Particularly when it involved the azure ice that acted as his limit.

Blue flames - made of ice - were dancing on her palms, each with a reflected face of a horned-demon, half-covered by a battle-axe.

At least extraneous details like that were manageable without an actual model; except, when he looked over for his habitual, suspicious glare at the two positioned for easy access to his fur, he noted Lisanna's calm expression mixed with tension and release at the same time.

He just copied it.

Wendi's own face shifted between anxiety, fear, and contentment before revolving back through the emotions.

He added some more lines to deepen Lisanna's face in the sculpture and soon he rotated back to the dancing flames, the details on her clothes, shoes, and the sparks flying.

It seemed to work better with mimicking magic spells than swordplay.

After a few hours of this, he just abruptly stopped. He yawned and his attention was locked on the fur. "... Close. Contr-" He coughed and gave up on it.

He passed out the moment his cheek brushed against the soft, silky black fur.