She held his face gently! The last time some held his face like that, he was getting beaten by guards and prisoners. She was so kind to him but why? He hoped it was a trick of his mind.
Or even worse...
Clyde sat in his stone tent, by the magic fire. She held his hand on the way to the fire, her hands were soft and warm as the summer. How could she pull it out? Yes she's a magic user, alright, but he never heard of someone able to warm himself on these conditions...
Felling a tremor, he stood up again. Ready to fight everything and anything, even if it meant dying, but he won't go back in jail. He was sure that the girl that came from nowhere was a bait and that the tremor meant that guards were coming for him.
With distress and a fire, deep in his soul, Clyde looked everywhere around. The "Girl of fire", as he would call her until he knew her name, was not carrying weapons but maybe she was a decoy? Maybe he should make the final run toward the frontier or die in the process.
"Show yourselves, cowards!" He yelled into the night, his voice carried by the wind, "I won't fallow you back into the pit!"
He rose his hand taking a fighting stance. His magic was ready, his body was ready.
But he wasn't.