Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-28358106-20180725003759

(Hound) Tirush's eyes swivel up the moment that she senses Pramool's reemergence. His spirit runs through the land, flooding with a chaos that no eyes can see. It overwhelms her senses, and she immediately knows what it means. The dominant, frigid blade of fear, of survival instinct washes over her. Not as the fear from an enemy, but as a deeper, more primal fear that doesn't trigger the subconscious as much as it gnaws on it---he fear of instinct. Of starvation in a deep winter, of a storm that cannot be outrun...of a terrible calamity that cannot be avoided.

Under such a circumstance, her concentration on the Miiraad is buffeted, as if from a dark wind. Very quickly, she calculates her decisions. And very quickly, she makes one.

With a leap, she takes to the air, flames swirling around her. She ignores the song of the Goh Maahk Yol, its thuúm allowed to return from whence it came. She gains altitude and circles the smouldering lake, searching for the others. She cannot see them at first, only the black, choking smoke that roils in the air like the darkest mountain.

Down below, the magma cools, though not rapidly. The arcing blasts of the boiling magma prominences blast into the air, only to solidify and crash to the cooling surface as gargantuan, red hot rocks. A thin crust begins to form on the lake, whose surface is criscrossed with chasms of still-hot lava, but it is solid. There is a very real danger of falling through if one were to apply too much weight to the crust, and lava still boils in spots, but the lake is more or less crossable...if not still unimaginably hot.