Handy was already stumbling to his feet. He took a few steps away from the door as the stag tested his magic and, to his delight, summoned forth a small ball of fire that floated at a point just above his muzzle. Handy walked over to the small waterfall falling through a hole in the oxidized bronze roof which was arched and covered in criss-crossing vines, like emerald veins upon teal skin. He followed the flow of the water, clutching his right arm in a futile attempt to warm it up, wisely electing to place his hammer in the loop by his side in case his right arm suddenly lost control from shock.