It hurt, but Brennan told himself that he was a man now so he should grin and bare it like his father did. His hands, far more sensitive than his father's weather roughened hands, were not nearly as ready for the abuse and smarted painfully. Finally, quite unintentionally, the fire sputtered out and he was left shaking his hands. Despite the strong urge, he refrained from blowing on his lightly burned hands.
To cover up his antics, he asserted proudly, "See! I'm not broken." Although he heard the wind, he was not worried. The storage was meant to not expose the contents to the cold. He did not know to consider that dead animals did not need to breath or have access to air, and that they would be in a spot of trouble if they were snowed in.
As amazing as his fire had been, he still wanted to see her sword. Being a little boy still, weapons fascinated him, although he had never shown any particular skill at wielding them. Now that he was a mage, that failing was forgiven, since he had other skills at his disposal that would serve the village just as well.