#corrin 01

dabi wasn’t one to try and socialize- he avoided it in most every case, half because of his own disposition (cantankerous, cranky, and downright ugly), and half because of his own appearance (burnt, craggy, and almost as ugly as his personality). he hadn’t talked much to anyone who wasn’t in his immediate circle back home, preferring to be by himself in almost every case.

and,

in this case too.

where he was crouched in the soft snow, a single azure flame danced along his palm, moving and flickering as if was alive, down to his fingertips where it pooled and collected like liquid. despite the amazing dexterity dabi showed in controlling the small amount, he was obviously frustrated with how little flame he could produce, and was focusing solely on the fire- not expecting, nor realizing, really, that anyone would be watching.

bedivere has decided to be grateful for his armor. as cumbersome as it might be to another, it feels like an extension of his body--the weight of it has never bothered him--and the padding underneath is worth its weight in gold in this persistent winter. were it anywhere else, he would take his lack of ability to really feel the cold as a good sign and proceed as he had been, but here--he’s not sure whether airgetlám will still be able to protect his body as it has been.

all the same, though, he keeps tending towards the fire--just in case, he says, because who is he to tell if the cold his biting him a little too deep? the innate desire for equilibrium is what brings him to the edge of the festivities, searching for a place to sit awhile and rest. eventually, he spies a spot--next to a rather unique looking woman. the knight can’t help but feel like he’s in the presence of royalty, and his demeanor changes to match.