storm/quen/morgayne | late morning
At Storm's response, Morgayne wrinkled her nose in disagreement. "The heat is definitely not tolerable," she sighed, lifting the hair off the back of her neck to feel the soft breeze that wafted along the beach. Even the cotton of her tunic was sticking to her stomach, despite its breathable fabric, and Morgayne found herself wishing she could just tear the thing off. Like her companions, she was also more covered up than the rest of the denizens at the beach, although that had nothing to do with modesty. Morgayne simply did not own a swimsuit -- there had never been much reason to buy one, given her general lack of leisure time as a squire. In the Outlands, she had swam more regularly, but she'd taken all her dips in the lake naked. After all, out there the risk was less that someone would run in to you, and more that a chimera would come by for a drink of water, and decided it wanted a snack as well.
So Morgayne had settled for one of her usual tunics, and a pair of shorts that morning, figuring a little extra fabric wouldn't be that bad. Needless to say, she had been wrong. Quen's use of Blizzard was thus an immense relief, instantly cooling her body. Morgayne felt as if she had stepped into a room of ice, or pressed an extra large cold compress against her burning skin.
"Quen, you're the best friend ever," Morgayne said with enthusiasm as she rubbed her hands against the skin of her thighs and calves, all miraculously cold to the touch.