It's cold. Fiends be damned, Ulren has never been more cold. He glares at the harsh stalactites and stalagmites closing in on them like teeth. "I hate this place."
Bloody Levistone had better be worth it. The furs he's wrapped in aren't doing anything to stop his shivering. Underneath, his white robes are still damp, chilling him to the bone. Even Gaul has put on a couple layers of furs, and the monk would fight in his smallclothes if propriety permitted it.
Almya glances over at him, trying not to look amused. "Well, you shouldn't have fallen out of the canoe."
"Oh, yes," he snarls back. "That's precisely it. I should have asked the Ochu to kindly refrain from dragging me into the water."
And Almya, as unflappable as ever, just says, "If you never ask, how will you know?"
It's too cold to pull his hair out, so Ulren tells her to shut up, instead. Almya shrugs one shoulder and keeps marching, catching up with Gaul. Ulren shuffles along, muttering to himself for gods know how long before he realizes their red mage is keeping pace with him.
"I could set something on fire," Clef offers quietly. "Do you want me to set something on fire?"
It's tempting, but wanton destruction might send the entire cavern crashing down on them. "I'll be fine. You can set some beasts on fire, and I'll reap the benefits."
"But you're shivering." He can barely feel Clef's grip on his arm through the layers of clothing. "I could ... warm you?"
Ulren shakes his head. "Save your strength; who knows what lurks in this block of ice?" He snorts. "I can't believe I'm beginning to miss the volcano."
"Oh," Clef says. His voice is shaky enough that Ulren looks over, concerned. Clef's hand releases him, curling into a white fist. The brim of his hat hides his face. "I mean -- um, I meant, I wanted--"
And it's new, this thing between them. New enough that they are still making mistakes like this. "Oh," he says, breath puffing from his mouth. "Oh." He moves, dipping under Clef's hat and drawing his head up to kiss him. Their lips are frozen, but the idea that he's given Clef an inadvertent rejection leaves him colder than the Ice Cavern ever could.
"When we get out of here," Ulren says, worrying at Clef's bottom lip, "you can warm me all you like."
"I'd like that," Clef replies, shyly. It's adorable; he calls down lightning from the sky one moment and hides in his hat the next.
"In the meantime, though..." Ulren reaches out and steals said hat, pulling it down over his frozen ears before hiking his hood up.
Clef grins and gives a rueful shake of his head. "Let's go find the Levistone."
Melt; FFI: White Mage/Red Mage
"Melt"
It's cold. Fiends be damned, Ulren has never been more cold. He glares at the harsh stalactites and stalagmites closing in on them like teeth. "I hate this place."
Bloody Levistone had better be worth it. The furs he's wrapped in aren't doing anything to stop his shivering. Underneath, his white robes are still damp, chilling him to the bone. Even Gaul has put on a couple layers of furs, and the monk would fight in his smallclothes if propriety permitted it.
Almya glances over at him, trying not to look amused. "Well, you shouldn't have fallen out of the canoe."
"Oh, yes," he snarls back. "That's precisely it. I should have asked the Ochu to kindly refrain from dragging me into the water."
And Almya, as unflappable as ever, just says, "If you never ask, how will you know?"
It's too cold to pull his hair out, so Ulren tells her to shut up, instead. Almya shrugs one shoulder and keeps marching, catching up with Gaul. Ulren shuffles along, muttering to himself for gods know how long before he realizes their red mage is keeping pace with him.
"I could set something on fire," Clef offers quietly. "Do you want me to set something on fire?"
It's tempting, but wanton destruction might send the entire cavern crashing down on them. "I'll be fine. You can set some beasts on fire, and I'll reap the benefits."
"But you're shivering." He can barely feel Clef's grip on his arm through the layers of clothing. "I could ... warm you?"
Ulren shakes his head. "Save your strength; who knows what lurks in this block of ice?" He snorts. "I can't believe I'm beginning to miss the volcano."
"Oh," Clef says. His voice is shaky enough that Ulren looks over, concerned. Clef's hand releases him, curling into a white fist. The brim of his hat hides his face. "I mean -- um, I meant, I wanted--"
And it's new, this thing between them. New enough that they are still making mistakes like this. "Oh," he says, breath puffing from his mouth. "Oh." He moves, dipping under Clef's hat and drawing his head up to kiss him. Their lips are frozen, but the idea that he's given Clef an inadvertent rejection leaves him colder than the Ice Cavern ever could.
"When we get out of here," Ulren says, worrying at Clef's bottom lip, "you can warm me all you like."
"I'd like that," Clef replies, shyly. It's adorable; he calls down lightning from the sky one moment and hides in his hat the next.
"In the meantime, though..." Ulren reaches out and steals said hat, pulling it down over his frozen ears before hiking his hood up.
Clef grins and gives a rueful shake of his head. "Let's go find the Levistone."