Neverwinter Forest So, what's the problem?

♥!

The poor state of the ice was unmistakably due to Cypress’ therapeutic decimation of it only hours prior, and he still hadn’t vacated the premises. The stygian eidolon, having fallen into a fitful doze, opened his sulphureous eyes at the soft crunch of Ondine’s paws in the snow and materialized from the shadows on the opposite end of the mire. The very sight of her filled him with a tumult of emotion he didn’t know how to handle gracefully, and the knotted state of his nerves mirrored itself in his posture: he faced her defiantly, all sharp angles and jutting planes, the set of his forepaws at a slight diagonal to his hindquarters. His tail stuck out stiffly behind him, its obsidian tip just beginning to curl uncertainly skyward, and the high arch of his broad shoulders was accentuated by the wild, silver-tipped mane that bristled into quill-like hackles. Cypress’ grimacing mouth twisted with a virulent snarl, but he didn’t loose the growl that tangled thickly in his throat; he merely stared at her as if by doing so, he could thrust her from his sight.