Sure, let's go with that, Foalan thought. He had intended to bring them face to face with the magic, figuring he could sling spells or just blast it. He hadn't figured out Riel looking like some angry, battle-hardened Adonis, ready to reign death upon those who threatened him. Foalan needed to find a way not to get distracted, the weaves that kept his flames under wraps cracked along the surface of his skin, and his wings broke from the cracks along his back spreading shifting fire.<br/><br/>He saw a brief wrinkle of Riel's nose before the other schi turned his attention back to the creature.<br/><br/>Oh good, he hates the blackberries. Riel wasn't the first patient he had to come away from his healing with that reaction, usually, they were really young. If they weren't about to battle a magical construct for Riel's life, Foalan would have chuckled.<br/><br/>"Dinna fash yerself," he said and called two blades to him, one from his left palm forming from the same fire that ignited his soul, the other, a twisting of red, green, blue and purple threads from his weaves. The threads solidified into a matching blade and he sent Riel an anticipatory. "Been a while since I've had a good fight. Let's see what this thing's got." Not waiting for a response, he rose above the cloudy ground leaving behind him a hot wave of blackberry scented air.