[ By the time they've made it to the inn doors, Joshua is tightly clutching the cloak around his shoulders. Nothing he seems to do can cut through the bitter cold, and every footstep is a struggle. But no matter how much the voices - his voice - call for a sacrifice, he has to keep going. For Clive.
The ball of flame lasts until they reach the doors, where it fully gutters out and disappears. But even in the inn's warm embrace, he can't get warm. The heat may be melting the snow in his hair, but the cold in his body won't abate.
Clive tells him to burn the amulet, and he lifts his hand to grasp it out of his shirt, but his fingers feel so numb that it takes a couple of attempts. Prying it off is a whole other matter, and he has to yank hard to break it away.
He tosses it in the fire, and it fizzles and spits. But the more it burns away, the more the cold seeps from his bones. ]
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The ball of flame lasts until they reach the doors, where it fully gutters out and disappears. But even in the inn's warm embrace, he can't get warm. The heat may be melting the snow in his hair, but the cold in his body won't abate.
Clive tells him to burn the amulet, and he lifts his hand to grasp it out of his shirt, but his fingers feel so numb that it takes a couple of attempts. Prying it off is a whole other matter, and he has to yank hard to break it away.
He tosses it in the fire, and it fizzles and spits. But the more it burns away, the more the cold seeps from his bones. ]