middaeg | . summer's play

[As soon as the line begins to move, Dimitri falls in - not like a soldier but once again, a student himself. Coming upon the dilapidated house, he can't help wondering who may have lived here... and what sort of end they met.

Doubtless, a gruesome one.

With a sharp breath, he refocuses on the lesson just in time to catch Sypha's signal.

Arm quickly outstretched, Dimitri blocks the boy's attempt with maybe a bit too much force.] Be careful. It'd be a shame if you caught an itch.

[The boy fixes him with a glare somewhere between petulant and intimidated - a look Dimitri isn't too fond of no matter how often he's on the receiving end of it.

But, crisis averted.

He quickly turns his attention to their perimeter, where several insects that resemble a cross between dragonflies and centipedes have begun to dart.

Dangerous? He's not sure-

So he takes one step away from the line - between the bugs and the children - as a precaution.]

[Dimitri breaking ranks is a tip off. Sypha looks to where he is facing and frowns, stepping up beside him and putting herself between the class and the insects.]

...those are definitely dangerous.

[She looks back at the students and the teacher.]

Class. I'm going to have to cut this trip short. Those are something I've started calling Plague Bloat Flies. They're nasty, and if they are over here, then there's something dead up ahead. And that means trouble.

[She holds her hand out towards the bugs, slowly backing away.]

Do not panic. Just turn and walk away. They won't attack us if we don't go near them.

[One or two insects, Dimitri could easily swat out of the air with his spear - but even he knows well enough that bugs usually live in swarms. He'd be useless against something like that; a pyre of magic or a powerful gust of wind would serve much better.

Disappointing as it is to end the nature lessons here, Sypha has made the right call.

Dimitri stands still, as if movement might provoke the flies, and watches as the class slowly begins to back away. Their line has fallen into disarray, but the children listen, and for that he's thankful.

Only once they've made it several paces away does Dimitri follow. As he moves, he catches a scent - something between raw and rotting. It makes his mouth water, and his nostrils flare as he attempts to banish the strange hunger.

He stops walking, and brings a fist to cover his nose and mouth.

In a moment. He'll move again in a moment.]

[Sypha keeps back as well, her fingers working through the motions of a spell to conjure a small silver disc beneath her feet. It hovers backwards, letting her move without fear of tripping, and giving her a bit more height to see over the long grass to the rotting deer carcass that these monstrous bugs are hovering around.]

Dimitri?

[She reaches a hand out to touch his shoulder.]

We should be moving. You should stick near the class. I am going to freeze that field solid so that those things don't get free, but I want you and your spear near them. Please, move.

[It's as if he's standing over the corpse, close enough that he could bend down and touch it. Feel the still warm flesh twitch with dying nerves, and rip a handful of meat for himself. Dimitri's throat constricts, and his grip on his face tightens.

His name is enough to reorient him to where he stands, and the hand on his shoulder stands to contrast the pain he's caused his own face.

Dimitri lowers his hand, reddened cheeks and bruising jaw left in its wake.]

Yes, of course. My apologies. [He speaks quickly and moves, falling behind Sypha to gather the class behind himself with a gesture. They form a closer - still disorganized - rank, though some peer out to watch the witch at work.

Dimitri too, is transfixed by her magic - and endlessly thankful that she has a plan.]

[Sypha nods to him, continuing to rise until she can get a clear view, and then she conjures her spell. A latticework of magic appears in the air, and a veritable blizzard appears over the bugs, freezing them solid and dropping them to the ground with a clink. More buzzing kicks off as the plague bloat flies that had remained hidden in the grass try and take off, but drop just as swiftly as the magic takes hold.

She holds the blizzard for several more moments, freezing every drop of moisture in that area solid. And then slams her hand down into her palm. The gesture seems to compact the ice, shattering it into a thousand glittering shards.]

There. it is done. But that burst of magic might draw magic-seeking shades, so we need to get out of this area. Please...

[She spins and hovers towards them, floating at a brisk pace.]

Let us be away. I do not want anyone harmed. Stay on the path, in a single file line.

[It's a wonderful display - there is ice magic in Fodlan, but nothing so intricate as what Sypha performs. She practices as if she controls the very element itself, a willful sort of manipulation rather than something studied in books.

He hopes to see it again, someday.

In better circumstances.

Now, Dimitri moves immediately, directing the children to follow along the trodden path and keep to the line. He jogs in front of them, keeping pace with the group and keeping a watch out for any flies that may have been just outside of Sypha's range.

A pair rises, darting wildly around the disrupted air currents in a confused aimless path. Immediately, Dimitri breaks off from the group, yelling for the line leader to continue the retreat. He makes simple work of them, spear cleaving through their carapaces at a safe distance.

And, thankfully, the scent of meat has been dampened by Sypha's ice; he rejoins the line at the end and ushers the kids on until they reach the city walls.]

[Sypha certainly won't stop the lad. She's content to keep the line moving, hovering at a distance above them all to keep everything safe and sound.

Thankfully, the kids are freaked out enough that there's no trouble, and soon they are all admitted into the city's walls.

Once business is taken care of, and the teachers have the students heading back to school, Sypha meanders over to Dimitri.]

You okay? You seemed a little spaced out there for a bit.

[The last of their group into the city, Dimitri hangs back from the children. They'll need to be going, and he's concerned about the state of his spear. Upon inspection, while the bug guts coating his blade are gross, they aren't that characteristic endless black.

He's lost many good weapons fighting shades - it's getting expensive.

Tucking his weapon away to clean later, Dimitri regards Sypha with a smile he hopes is as natural as the one he'd worn when they met. It's only a little forced.] Oh.

Didn't you smell it?

The animal they were eating must have been relatively fresh - it was overpowering. [To a hungry monster, at least.]

No.

[Sypha's answer is simple and direct, her brow furrowing in concern.]

No, I didn't, Dimitri. I'm afraid my nose is a witch's nose, so I don't have the keener senses a monster might.

...Do you know what species you're becoming?

[Her answer surprises him - horror crosses his face in a flash. Dimitri casts his eyes to the ground, staring at the dirt to steel his expression and focus on answering her question.

Instead of the frozen feeling in his gut.]

Some sort of hybrid. [Voice quiet, he shakes his head.] A chimera, as they call it.

I can't say what animals yet, but surely something... carnivorous.

Oh, yes. Chimera are hybrids of carnivores, usually. And that's fine.

[She smiles, patting his shoulder and pulling him along towards the city.]

It's not bad. At least you aren't going to grow eight spider legs. Or a snake's lower half.

You'll be alright, Dimitri.

[Dimtiri takes a step when gently urged, momentum at first like a man barely catching himself falling before he reaches a regular pace. He walks on his own two feet, and while they may change... they'll still be his.

And he won't have one or eight of them - lucky.

He forces a smile, letting out a stale breath.] Thank you, Sypha.

You're an impeccable teacher - I appreciate the lessons you've taught today.

[On the flora, and a little life coaching.

It's nostalgic.]

. summer's play

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//wrapping up!