Initially, Imp's mischief went unnoticed, mind consumed by a humming sort of self-satisfaction. This did not last long, though, as the sharp needle prick of heat popped his inflated ego. Eyes snapped open. Amusement morphing to a shock-slackened jaw, Fahl flew backwards, front paws lifted to the ceiling. All weight rested upon back legs, he landed with a hard thump in a seated position.

Distanced from the danger before any burns could have taken their toll, he was unharmed. Even so, what heat had transferred to him he stamped out with panicky gasps. For someone aiming to be, as he had stated as a child, a master of fire, the reaction could have been comical. Preoccupied with his minor scare, the playful humbling words were background noise to his feet smacking against the stone.

"Fuuuhhhhking fried fish," he wheezed out. His claws scraped sharply as they impacted the floor once more. "Cocky. Not good. At all. Understood."

The frantic chasing away of the heat died down, first as foot stomps became nervous patter and then as that faded away so only his exhausted pants could be heard. A paw lifted to eye level and was blown on cautiously, scrutinized for any trace of warmth. Once content with what he found, calm finally settled upon him. Relief sucked in from his surroundings, he exhaled long and low.

"Yeah, I think that works. Thanks." Despite the reaction to the trick, the last he said without bitterness, the bout of fear having already run its course.

Fahl scanned the surroundings for the pond they'd originally been by, the moss mat less intact but still floating on its surface. "You want a snack? Probably some fish left." One, in fact, remained if a passing opportunist hadn't grabbed it during their lessons.

@Imp

Character: Fahl Age: +11 (11th Cycle) Magic Level: +3 (Pupil) ROUND 1 Attempt: +15 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: +18 Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +11 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +9 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +15 Penalties: - Total: 82

Character: Imp Age: +64 (64th Cycle) Magic Level: +3 (Strategist) ROUND 1 Attempt: +13 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: +3 Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +3 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +4 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +12 Penalties: - Total: 102

WINNER: Imp (technically...)

The squat little gremlin of a discount-store dragon gave a short but raucous laugh. Fucking fried fish. He'd have to remember that one.

His own ears stayed attentive; it didn't sound like Fahl was seriously hurt or anything, which was good. So Imp settled in, fairly pleased, all in all. He'd trained the kid (not really kid) a little, again; maybe done something useful. He could go talk to his dad later (assuming he could find the way) about everything Fahl had told him, too. It seemed like something Dragon would be interested in.

Plus: snack!

"Yeah, a snack sounds good. What do you say we split it?" he asked, the cheer of his good mood evident.

@Fahl

"Sure," he said. Whatever Imp thought sounded right.

Their spar hadn't taken them too far away, though Fahl found the short distance they'd covered rather a shock. While his teacher had been pinpointed easily enough without sight, the situation had crumpled up and flipped around the entire mental map of his surroundings. A navigator in a simultaneously strange and familiar land, his first steps were stumbles, body swaying as he adjusted to travelling with all senses at his disposal. They became more certain after a brief period of time, the walk steadied by the clear and open path he saw to the pond. Upon reaching its shore, his head bowed to seek out the shining silver of fish scales against the gray stone.

He went once, twice, along the perimeter before hissing low past clenched teeth. "Shiiiiit."

There was nothing. Although Imp could not witness it, a furtive glance was directed his way. Whatever disappointment from this might last a mere second or two, nothing serious or damaging to have to deal with. However causing that at all, even briefly, distressed Fahl; it'd be poor form, not repaying those lessons. No respectable student should avoid it.

Frantic, eyes darted over the pond's surface, looking for signs of life beneath. Something, anything, finned and edible. Big or small, he didn't care—what mattered was that he caught it. The water rippled, and as soon as a flash of movement could be perceived, he lunged out.

A mighty splash accompanied the attack. Jaws snapped and claws flailed for a grasp of fresh fish. When Fahl returned to Imp's side, he flung down the catch. With paws planted over each end, it was messily rent apart. The tailed half kept by him, the other he pushed away.

"Here." What air of nonchalance he tried to convey with this single word statement fell short, tainted by the near breathless quality of his voice. As he settled down and dug into his portion of fish, a shower of droplets shook off his hide, scales positively slick from the rushed imperfect dive.

In the hurry to correct a mistake not quite his fault, the idea of roasting the fish for improved flavor had escaped his mind. Having the fish to begin with mattered most, and while showing off a bit of fire magic once again would have been nice, his concern remained there.

@Imp

If Fahl was concerned about not doing enough, or not being strong enough, his worries were totally lost on Imp. Imp, getting the head-half of a big fish landing before him, hastened to feel it over with his wing-claws and then went into a loud bray of praise.

"YOOO! THIS SHIT'S BIG, FAHL. You JUST caught this?!"

He sounded rather like a donkey or a zebra, if their sounds had included positive reinforcement in them.

"Shit, that was QUICK. You're getting efficient. And right after a fight, too? Nice job!" He took a big bite, jaws ripping a hunk from the fish, and then added (with his mouth full of food): "Oh, 'nd thfnnks!"

Munch, gulp, swallow.

After a couple companionable bites, he settled in, peering blindly in Fahl's general direction. "It's been good seein' you again, Fahl," (and his mouth wasn't full anymore, thankfully); "I hope this shit we practiced on can, like, be of some use to you. Anything else you wanna do?" he went on, easygoing. He didn't mind, either way; and as he waited for a response, he ripped out another little bite of his half of the fish.

@Fahl

What'd been a worried squint at Imp widened into what could be best be described as shock, dulled as it was by reptilian features. The praise might as well have been lightning coursing through his veins, charging his entirety with energy that replenished what'd been lost to the previous activities. His mouth fell open, agreement flowing out, no forethought involved.

Fortunate that the reaction went unseen, at least between the two of them. Chunks of fish, the meat chewed to a mash and yet to be swallowed, spilled from his tongue—far from what one wished to witness during a meal. Immediately aware of the slovenly behavior, the resulting disgust could have turned his scales green due to its intensity.

"Y-yeah." An instant after, his head ducked, chastisement heavy on the mind for what he perceived as a clear lack of certainty. Shoulders back, chin high, he tried again. "Yeah. I did. Makes sense that I'm effishent."

There: that was the confidence he needed. Now if only he could keep it from slipping from him at every tiny doubt he encountered. Having found some measure of reassurance, Fahl took his time basking in the compliments, their warmth savored. His heart lightened; but it stayed anchored within his chest, chained to reality by the continuing conversation. He took another bite of his half of the fish, a small one so that his next response did not make him out to be a slob.

Although unnecessary, he nodded. "It's been nice. And I'm sure it'll help."

From Imp, why wouldn't it?

"Well..." Searching for something more to do and finding little beyond preparations for the upcoming dive, new lessons included, no answers were forthcoming. "What about you? Don't mean you needing help." He wouldn't dare suggest that, his fragile pride be damned. Not unless it was really required of him. Or if it related to that sadist, Nemean. "I mean, we've been talking a lot about me. And there's got to be shit going on with you."

Right?

@Imp

"E-FISH-SHENT! Shit, that's bad. I love it!" Imp cried, laughter choking him up a little on the fish. Cough, cough--and gulp; and he was back to eating.

But Fahl's next question caught him by surprise, and he glanced up, squinting as much as his face would allow.

"With me-?" he asked. Now, any other Gembound might have offered some (perhaps morbidly sad) quiet dismissal of the question--Imp had sort of moped around since being blinded, and done absolutely nothing of interest whatsoever. But Imp embraced his misery with wholehearted LOUDness. "FUCK, I can't do ANYTHING, Fahl! It sucks! I can't see to travel properly, hunting is ass, I can't see who's coming. I can't really get up to much, y'know? Not even any fuckin' art!" he brayed, and flailed wing-limbs out to either side. "Anyway, I mean, no, not up to much. It sucks, but that's how it is. Gonna kill that shit," he added, in a mutter.

Nothing about it was defeated or depressed--Imp was noisily angry and then on to the next topic as if it hadn't happened. "Well, I've been fine, though. Y'know? Thanks for asking! You let me know how that, uh, that shit with the Masters works out, huh? Lemme know if the--the practice, here--helped?"

He stared cheerfully, hopefully, off at a spot to Fahl's left, and licked the last of the fish scales from his teeth.

@Fahl

Fahl listened to the embittered rant between chews, face placid. What had been expected, he didn't know—some grand magical achievement or a tale involving his teacher's family maybe. But this turn, a grim reminder of a blind reality, caused his blood to simmer. He indulged heavier in his remaining part of the meal, scales and flesh alike stuffed in jaws faster than angry huffs could be expelled from them. Any insults thought of were a waste, especially without the one who deserved them absent from the present company. At best, they'd be construed as expressions of support for Imp's plight, though Fahl suspected the feathered hybrid could far outpace whatever string of ugly monikers he spewed, rendering the contributions rather weak in comparison.

Hatred threatening to rise to a rolling boil, his glare directed to the ground. She might not be here, but imagination had its uses; he could pretend that Nemean was pinned beneath him, her sparkle reduced to dull ash. This image he held for a time before swallowing, the rage pushed with the last bit of fish down his throat. Only then came a sufficiently pleasant attempt at a response.

"Sure. I can do that." A beat passed, and a careful smile formed. "Maybe I'll bring back a souvenir. Like a big tooth. If it's pointy enough... you could poke Nemean's eyes out with it." Although amusement laced his tone, an edge underlay it, a promise to aid such an endeavor if an opportunity emerged.

"I'll probably do some more practice later. To see if I've got everything down. Think right now..." His mouth opened wide into a yawn. "Rest a while."

"Or," he said, considering for a moment, "talk more. About your art?"

It hadn't been the first time this subject had turned up, and perhaps he was an uncultured lizard, but Fahl never fully understood what Imp meant by it, other than his skill must have been great.

@Imp
((Start wrapping things up?))

"Art? Oh, it's great," Imp began, with clear enthusiasm. This was almost immediately swallowed by a wash of memory; he couldn't do art anymore. Cheer turned to bitterness, but he bit that back and explained. "You can get shit that's colored--paint, pigment, whatever--and mark it on walls, on floors. Make pictures with it. I used to draw all sorts of shit," he added, and then--after a moment's thought--"Some of it's probably still there, if the rain hasn't washed it away. Those big carvings in some of the tunnels--those are Art, too, but not mine. I don't know how to make rock into shapes. It's probably magic," he reasoned, with a shrug.

"If you want, uh--there's an ice tunnel that I did a lot of art in," he explained, proudly. If Fahl were ever to visit, he'd find a questionable number of genitals drawn all over the walls there. Imp's art style had definitely been the satirical kind. "There should still be some there."

Sure! We can fade out or just split up, whatever!

@Fahl

Childhood might have been a distant memory for Fahl currently, but that mattered little in the face of new knowledge. The standard expressions of skepticism or annoyance that came with age could not be mustered as he listened, the revelations given to him widening his eyes to their fullest. Not once had he ever considered such an activity possible: Gembounds altering the caves as they saw fit. Magic told much of power, but this was a demonstration of that, with and without the use of an individual's element.

To him it was clear what this meant. Being an artist must take serious gumption. Therefore this further proved how impressive his teacher was and how much had truly been stolen from him. Nemean had not done this purely for the amusement derived from the act's cruelty, but also for the sick pleasure of humiliating a foe. Outrage sparked from the realization, which he redirected to eager talk before it could become an uncontrolled blaze.

"Paint? Pigment?" Was there a difference? Would anything leave a mark if he were to rub it on a surface? "Do you need a lot of color? Can you mix them?"

Fahl made note of the ice tunnel as an important place to visit, but his jaw then slackened in horror. He'd been through plenty of ice tunnels, mostly for travel but for magic practice as well. What if, unknowingly, he'd melted some of Imp's art away?

No. Surely he would have noticed. But what if... Checking the tunnels later was the best way to be certain, to ease the tightness in his chest.

@Imp
((Fading out sounds good to me!))