He rounded a bend, droplets of water bouncing off his armour, he shivered with the chill. When he got back, he was going to put his feet in a dish of warm water, wrap himself in twenty blankets, eat some soup and tell the world to rightly fuck off as he sat beside a roaring fire. From the other side of the room of course, it wouldn’t do to be careless after all, he learned that the hard way. Pulling himself up on a ledge he continued, the burning brand he carried bent and fluttered in the direction of the exit, a neat little trick the witch had given him, he thought about keeping it. Kind of like a subterranean compass.