When her abilities flared up, so did his fear. He hissed once again, and shrank away from her. "Stay away from me, you<em>freak</em>." There wasn't enough room to get away. And she had fire. Fire was death.<br/><br/>He tore his eyes away from the flickering flame, though it kept calling back to him. It was hard not to stare at something so small, yet so deadly. He forced his breathing under control. In... out... in... out... Just like that. Each breath soothed him, and each one seemed to draw the warmth out of the room. He could already see his breath, hanging in the air like smoke. It was good, wet air. There was water everywhere, in the stone, in the air, in the walls. He raised a hand to his head and drew away the frozen blood, shaping it into a crude dagger. Could he get this embedded in her neck before she burned him to cinders? He wasn't sure.<br/><br/>"I don't know why I'm here. I was out hunting, and someone attacked me." That's right, keep talking. Keep the room getting colder and colder. So cold that even these red hot bars would shatter like icicles. So cold that the floor would grow slick with a thick layer of ice. Ice made water, and water killed fire. Ice was life, fire was death. "I don't know what's going on. If I did, I would tell you."<br/><br/>Was it his imagination, or was her flame beginning to flicker and die? It didn't matter. The whole room was chilled. He was starting to get comfortable.<br/><br/>"You're bleeding," he observed. Presumably, the same people who had thrown him in there had gotten to her as well.