[ He squints up into the rain, shakes his hair roughly like a wet dog as water runs down his face and neck. It's unpleasant, makes him feel cold even despite the otherwise warm air. Irritated, he looks down and tries to burn through another patch of vine. The heavy rain is making it difficult, slowing the catch of the flame.
At least, he supposes, he isn't at risk of burning them both too much.
His boots slide in the mud, and Wrathion frowns -- tries to think. He's not keen on being bound, not keen on sinking into mud, and not keen on being swallowed by a hedge either. The vines are, however, persistent. ]
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[ He squints up into the rain, shakes his hair roughly like a wet dog as water runs down his face and neck. It's unpleasant, makes him feel cold even despite the otherwise warm air. Irritated, he looks down and tries to burn through another patch of vine. The heavy rain is making it difficult, slowing the catch of the flame.
At least, he supposes, he isn't at risk of burning them both too much.
His boots slide in the mud, and Wrathion frowns -- tries to think. He's not keen on being bound, not keen on sinking into mud, and not keen on being swallowed by a hedge either. The vines are, however, persistent. ]
This may be the time for drastic measures.