Jack-o'-lantern
He was reluctant because he didnât want any unwanted trouble to spur from their  so called âcompetitionâ. Pumpkins burning was fine with him, but⊠if the area already had a tendency to catch fire altogether, then he wouldnât hesitate to throw Gaillard right under the bus. After all, he was the one who suggested starting this whole thing.
Two colours of fires burned and crackled, the shriek of the pumpkins which had the unfortunate role of falling victim as fuel rang in his ears.
His arms folded, staring down the other sternly.
âJust so weâre clear⊠Iâm not going down with you if something goes wrong. Got it? Anyone can set a normal fire, but as far as Iâm aware, youâre the only one who can make one thatâs blue.â
       Those shrill screams ran up his back, as they would any, but otherwise, he paid them no heed. They were familiar, hearing them from those heâd cast judgement on already through the use of his power.
âi wouldnât have expected differentlyâ. They werenât enemies, but their rivalry/friendly relationship teetered a strange line, and neither would have been hesitant to mess the other around.
    Whether old seeds of their bitter feud still festered, or they had just grown accustomed to aiming for one-upping each other, undetermined as the answer was, they were still in competition.
âIf it should be the case, then prepare yourself for some revenge. I canât let you walk over me, so Iâd find just punishment for you - there must be something which would have you crawling on your kneesâ.
