Imenry bit down on her lower lip, watching as he shook his hands. Maybe the fire did hurt him. But he was bigger than she was and wasn't even crying over it. She'd cried lots when she burnt her hand on the pot. She smiled though, when he asserted that he wasn't broken. It was good that he was a working mage. One day he'd definitely protect the Temple.
She didn't stop to think why he wasn't at his lessons. She didn't really know how the mages worked. She knew they had some. They had a lot right now, Daddy was always saying. Usually the village might be lucky to have one or two, but there were some blood-lines where mages seemed to crop up regularly enough that they almost always had at least one. Brennan said his mother was a mage. Likely, when he had children one day, at least one of them would also be a mage.
"Storm's comin'" she finally said, tugging at his arm and moving back towards the cavern's entrance. "You can come play at my house." Maybe he could stay for supper. She'd never had a friend stay for supper before. Mama probably wouldn't mind though. She was always telling Imenry to try and make friends.
Scooting through the narrow entryway Imenry emerged into a world of white. The snow was heavy, swirling through the air in fat flakes. Already their tracks from earlier were gone. Ducking beneath the fur trees she lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the snow and peered through the curtain of white to find the village lights. In the distance the Temple's torches still flickered; their flames dancing through the whipping wind.