Burning.

Rage boiled within the hot head's chest. A wildfire took place inside. Meanwhile, in the outside world of frost, the frost fae continued his little "make the redhead angry" fest.

The image of another Felicity hung from her legs appeared. Powdered snow fell from the shaking branch. In the cold, Felicity simply stood dumbfounded for a moment. Her face was blank and confused. This illusionist was just not letting up. As her thoughts came back to her, the girl glared, then shouted.

"What is this!?! A game to you?!? Come and fight like a man!"

As she tightened the grip on her sword, Felicity growled. This little punk was making her rather impatient. Was he trying to sentence himself to a stabby stab stab death at her hands? The half neanderthal's cheeks were more red of rage than the cold. It was cheeky, aloof ice against explosive, dumb fire. While she was certainly intelligent and shrewd, being an alchemist and all, Felicity's anger often times took over her. It was direly unhealthy... Caution was thrown into the wind, replaced with that old familiar rage. In the confined mazes of conifer trees, Felicity bolted forth.

As she kicked up crystallized water behind her, Rhyolite pulled her sword back. Taking on the humorously named "wrath" guard, she aimed a slash at her mocking reflection.

"Cut it out, you crummy little troll!"