Scream? Had he screamed? He was shivering, the same strange feeling gripping his heart, a terrible animalistic fear threatening to consume him. 'That's what happened,' he thought to himself. 'Like that night with the match… that strangled cry I gave when I got burned.' That rationalization helped, if only a bit, as he got a hold of himself. Ferix was still boasting but stopped in his rambling, looking sideways towards Handy's new direction. Handy's mind reeled as the dragon slowly turned to face him once more, clearly unamused. "As I was saying," his mouth ran before his mind caught up with it as so often had happened before. He slowly, cautiously descended the tiered seats of the stand, quickly stepping to the side as one panel gave way under his weight. “Normally I consider myself a traditionalist, but what the hell? I like being creative when it comes to dragon slaying." He jumped into the arena and began walking towards his fallen hammer, all too keenly aware of the nearby flames Ferix had kindly spat everywhere like a diarrhoea-stricken flamethrower.