Duskfire Glacier interference

blackfell steps back, teeth stained crimson, gaze sharp yet edged with amusement. he shakes himself briefly, casting a pointed look down at faust, lips curling faintly.
comfortable down there?
voice dry, edged with rough humor. eyes glint warmly beneath the blood and sweat of their clash.
he shifts weight back onto his haunches, watching as faust begins to rise like a war horse from a nap, ears flicking casually.
i can always leave you to rest. the snow suits you.