The wolf startled back, a leap, a blink; he hadn't expected that. For a moment he thought that Dragon had drastically failed, that his magic had backfired, and horror consumed him--but then there he was, black head bobbing from the surface of the Heart, calm and collected as could be.

Ahh. The wolf relaxed, some, taking a deep breath.

"Hm. I have been told that magic can be bent into any form--that creativity is key," he told Dragon, after a moment. "I wonder." The alligator's mention of explosive traps had him curious, and he paced over to the driest ground he could find (which wasn't saying much at all) and dipped his nose to its rank, slimy surface.

He felt the light flow of magic as it flickered forth, then poured into the mud, coalescing, condensing... and then he stepped back, looking to Dragon. "Try to walk over that, but there ought to be fire, when you do, as a warning."

At least, he hoped. If he'd done it right.

Dragon would have perked a brow, if he could have. All he had was rigidly-scaled skin, though, so all he could really do was stare for a moment as he took this in.

"Hrmph. Very well," he replied. After a moment he'd trudged out of the water, dragging himself--with a distinct limp of his lame right hind leg--and over toward the potential trap.

The wolf backed away as he approached, and for a moment Dragon, suspiciously, hoped that this wasn't some form of setup; Fireheart certainly seemed better with flame than he'd let on. And when Dragon set foot on the patch of mud, it seemed that way for a moment. Fire erupted all around him, a snarling roar of embers and flames that rocked skyward and for a moment engulfed the alligator in its grasp. If he wasn't fire-element himself, if he hadn't practiced and burned himself frequently, it might have really harmed him; as it was he rolled away with a coughing bellow of a roar, and into the water before it could ignite his flesh. In he went with a splash.

He bobbed to the surface a moment later, eyes picking Fireheart out and staring at him for a moment, before his jaws, too, breached the water. "I would be very careful with that, if I were you," he suggested drily. "I have thick skin, and fire; that could have killed someone else. It might have killed me if there wasn't water right here," he added, a darkness to his tone that suggested that if this were a trap, the wolf would have to do better than that.

He had not been prepared for the power that the spell had contained. He'd expected a burst of flame, a bit of magicka expended--not the engulfing consumption that had nearly surrounded Dragon all over again.

"...Hell," he breathed, ember eyes wide, only now realizing that he'd leapt back nearly a meter. He straightened and shook himself, a little embarrassed, blinking. "I didn't--I have never done that before, I did not realize the strength of it. I am sorry--you are unharmed?" he added, glancing to the alligator with concern.

He could feel weariness dragging on him, a bit--not powerful, as yet, but present, and he shook himself again. "I think... I will need a rest soon? But what else can you teach me? I will rest here, and perhaps... if you are willing, we can practice together?" He paused, his head tilting a tad to one side. "Perhaps we can both learn something new," he added, thoughtfully.

Dragon watched the white wolf. Its mannerisms didn't seem faked; it appeared to genuinely be surprised, nervous, hopeful in turn. Well, it didn't rule out a trap but it made it feel less likely, at least.

"Rest, then!" he boomed, after a moment. "I will still be here. Or... around. We can spar, once you're ready. And yes, I am unharmed--or, not harmed enough to make a difference. Like I said, lucky choice of target." As to Fireheart's other question, he considered for a long moment before responding.

"As for what else I can teach you... your magic is strong. I think I can work with you on igniting yourself, building a resistance to fire, perhaps the explosives bile thing; but that will come with time. For now, getting it reliable is important. But yours seems strong," he repeated, with a lurch in the water that seemed to be the alligator equivalent of a shrug.