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As soon as Lucy woke up, the whole room seemed to grow tenser, quieter, darker. The air itself seemed to grow threatening. He pushed himself slowly onto his elbows, then his hands, then got all the way slowly to his feet. His rumpled hair gave the impression of horns. "Hello," he said innocently, the red of his irises almost glowing in the darkening room. "I don't know who you are, but that doesn't mean you have the advantage. I'm going to really enjoy this, actually." Fire sprouted from nowhere just to backlight him, as though that could make an eight-year-old with scraped knees and missing teeth look intimidating. It did.












