As this man, Glacies Frost, spoke, Felicity listened attentively. Arms crossed, face hardened in intent and dedication, she paid attention to these details. She had heard of golems before. Heck, she fought one first hand! Yet, these “technology thing” golems, she never heard of. With the mechanical creature being something new to him, Felicity grew nervous over its kill count. She had experience with magic and ancient powers, technicalities and enchantments from around the world, but this…

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She had to stifle her nervous swallow. Her eyes narrowed as she reminded herself, I need to do this! So it takes no other lives!

Hopefully, it would not take hers.

Then, yet another thing caused goosebumps of anxiety to prickle up her spine. A guy was drunk, super drunk. Of course, he had to come to this table. She had hobbled over, almost fell over, barely able to stand. She plummeted into the chair, not even sitting straight – or right, if there was a way to sit right. What made the situation worse was that this man, Micah, was an acquaintance of Glacies’.

The redhead took a noticeable step back, body leaned away from Micah. Her eyes were wide. Crossed arms were now tightened in a self-hug. She barely hung onto the chilly named man’s first half of his sentence. Then, she had to hastily pick up and listen in on the rest. The plan seemed solid enough, but Micah had put her off a lot. Usually, she was spit balling anything else someone would not have thought of, enthusiastic and energetic. Now, however, she was silent. Honestly, this man’s very name put her on defensive as well. She had a very bad history with the elements of snow and ice, his name clearly reflected those things. As her post traumatic stress of events past tightened her chest, she had to bite her lip to shake herself from her brooding thoughts.

She shook her head, perhaps too forcefully, “No further ideas. Your plan is fine.”

She had unconsciously tip toed to the opposite side of the table from Micah’s. A shortness of breath overtook her, causing her to close her eyes. Pale skinned, sweat beads formed along her forehead. She took a deep breath, then exhaled. “A-apologies, I- The air is thick in here.”

The seemingly distant, faded, distorted shadows of the noisy, sticky, oven hot bar floated from far away.