Black watched the snake slither forth, and turned to Kera at her question, considering. He went over every single gembound he knew who'd died. Every one that had been in Polaris. And-... He remembered one.
"I do not know," he rumbled at last.
"I remember a moth, vast-winged, which fought the black dragon by our sides, here, and fell. It held such a stone, I think, but I know not what became of it. I--"
There was a splash, and before he could really register what had happened, Kera was already racing to Winter's rescue.
He took three steps forward, brow wrinkling up, peering down. Concern registered over his face--but the white wolf pup seemed to be successful in her endeavors, and he looked up, instead.
The storm might hit them, again, and on some instinctual level he decided to try and guard them. He looked up, wrinkled brow still etched with worry--and drew his magic together even more determinedly than before. He was a protector; it was time to protect.
The magic swirled darkly just above his head, and an instant later it did spring open, only to begin dragging
him toward it. With a sharp bark of alarm he scrambled down, trying to get out of its grasp before it consumed him entirely.
Whoops.
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