If Only to Wait
"You dare insult him?!"
"He's history," came the derisive snort. "Play with fire and you get burned."
The group recoiled in some base shock. But he darted forward in the wet snow, snatching his blade free from his side—it was a cold arrow, citing on the fiend's heart.
"Magus, hold thy tongue!" He warned.
Magus regarded the drawn weapon with a black glare, eyes rising evenly to meet Frog's. With an unheard snap, the air tightened impossibly around them all, caving and sucking in at invisible, itching points. Marle cried out, straining at the cocoon of power. Magus did not stir, unaffected by the dark web.