"No movement nearby, but the fairgrounds might be slightly on fire," Kerrigan's voice comes drifting from among the leaves. Fortunately, the grass there is nowhere near as dry as her voice right now. It's probably the cured wood of a stall or two burning.
"There's a break in the forest that turns into a canyon a couple hundred meters north and it's glowing, so the fairies were right about that much. The light's not constant, but it's not flickering like bad power grid would. ...Or firelight," she tacks on. If Raistlin's using herbs instead of an inhaler to treat his asthma, he probably doesn't know anything about electricity, either.
She's not going to get anything more by staying up there and squinting against the night, so Kerrigan descends, reversing her course from branch to branch with considerably less acrobatic panache this time, since going down she doesn't have to fight gravity. She stops on the branch above Raistlin, not wanting to risk any vibrations sending him off-balance. Sure, he's standing on a big, thick branch, but over their brief acquaintance, she's formed a dim opinion of his athletic prowess.
"Looks about as safe as it's going to get," she says from her crouch, pale gray armor and pale skin making her ghost-like in the gloom.
no subject
"No movement nearby, but the fairgrounds might be slightly on fire," Kerrigan's voice comes drifting from among the leaves. Fortunately, the grass there is nowhere near as dry as her voice right now. It's probably the cured wood of a stall or two burning.
"There's a break in the forest that turns into a canyon a couple hundred meters north and it's glowing, so the fairies were right about that much. The light's not constant, but it's not flickering like bad power grid would. ...Or firelight," she tacks on. If Raistlin's using herbs instead of an inhaler to treat his asthma, he probably doesn't know anything about electricity, either.
She's not going to get anything more by staying up there and squinting against the night, so Kerrigan descends, reversing her course from branch to branch with considerably less acrobatic panache this time, since going down she doesn't have to fight gravity. She stops on the branch above Raistlin, not wanting to risk any vibrations sending him off-balance. Sure, he's standing on a big, thick branch, but over their brief acquaintance, she's formed a dim opinion of his athletic prowess.
"Looks about as safe as it's going to get," she says from her crouch, pale gray armor and pale skin making her ghost-like in the gloom.