Faustus pulled her in to him and she allowed herself to lean on him to breathe, to try and calm. She would be no good to anyone like this. But instead her words creaked out in a fractured tortured voice, “I should know what to do.” She breathed the truth against his frosty woolen coat as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Breathe. She coaxed herself, scrambling to calm herself down.

Then silence.

Malou pushed away and looked up at the sky, at the sudden silence. It was too loud, this absence of sound.

“What?” She blinked, dazzled by the scene in front of them, but the oddity of the storm that had been there and now wasn’t. “Faustus?” Her voice trembled, this wasn’t right.

  

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The fear in his wife’s voice only reflected the tightness that had constricted in Faustus’ chest. It was so quiet. Too quiet. As if the dragon was merely pausing before it inhaled, then exhaled a breath that dealt fatal consequences.

“There’s more to this than just magic,” Faustus muttered. “Something’s gone wrong, Malou. We must get out of here now.” Despite the pain radiating in his side, adrenaline took over and Faustus reached over to haul Malou up from the ground.

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pretties by mj

She recognized that tone of Faustus's. Her hand slipped into his and she hauled herself up off the ground trying to make sure he didn't hold her weight. Thank God he was moving, thank God he could stand. She prayed silently as he unfolded himself. There was something else moving in her veins now, purpose in addition to the fear. They had a goal, a way forward. She held tight to her husband's hand and started forward as quickly as she could. "Do you think - " Her voice trembled as she forced the words out between frozen lips and gasping breathes that escaped from the confines of her corset, "A warming spell?" She gasped out the last of her thought, their movement and the emotions making it hard to speak more elaborately.

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   Faustus Prewett

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His arm banded around her waist as she stood, and he used all the strength he could to push her forward, propelling them towards where he could only hope it was safer for them. At her request for warming charms, he pressed his lips together. “I don’t think so, my love, I'm so sorry,” He murmured. He didn’t want to tell her he’d already tried to non-verbally cast something on her to help; it clearly hadn’t worked. He didn’t want to tell her he seemed to have lost his ability to wield magic in this bubble of theirs.

“We’re almost there, hold on Malou,” He said, preparing to take the rest of her weight if he had to.

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pretties by mj