"I can try again," he answered, mild, agreeable. He wanted to, in fact. Wanted to practice this, to get good at it--though why, he couldn't really have said. It was just a vague desire to improve; maybe a competitive edge? But the sort of "competitive" nature that Pride himself held: to be the best that one could be, rather than comparing his skills to those of anyone else.
Hesitation, and then--"I want to try again." Clarified, then.
Ember took his time, again: he arched back his neck, focusing on the stone, on his magic, on his own gem, on a blast of controlled energy-
-and again it connected, a strong burst of kinetic power slapping the rock from the air and sending it clattering across the ground. Proudly, Ember lifted his head again, and looked to Pride, eyes bright. "I did it," he said again, and there was confidence in his tone, now.