The swath of snow temporarily abated. Fenn poked his head out of the branches to stare down at this lippy human-girl, scowling puffy-cheeked all the while. Why, of course he’s like to hop down and fight her head-on, like a civilized creature. That was so certain to go better than the other times he had gotten too close to his opponent. What usually happened when he did that? Oh, right -- they squashed him like an oozy black-blooded bug, as easily as one would tip over an ink jar. He could just imagine her crushing him with the weight of that shield of hers alone.

Yeah, he wasn’t quite that stupid. The boy flipped his middle finger out at Felicity. No thank you!

If she wanted him on the ground in the open, she was going to have to figure out how to do that herself. Snow fell readily around Fenn’s tree again. After diving back among the rattling fir-needles, the tiny fae flicked his hands outward. Two new snowball-sized shards of ice expanded into existence.

Fenn’s glassy irises flicked down to his wrists. Ever since… that, his magic had gotten a bit weird. It leapt more eagerly to his command, responding to his will with a wickedness that surprised him at times. The snow? Next time Banrion visited his dreams, he was going to ask about that. The ice chunks hovering over his palms were more condensed than they had been in the past, almost, but not quite iron-hard.

Still wasn't enough to take down most opponents though.

Through the flurries and branches, he could see Ashla was backing away cautiously, shield held up in a defensive position. Fenn glanced up into the trees over her. Maybe he could knock a heavy branch on her head..?

Seemed worth a shot.