my fire is burning low

While the Lambda Ferronis didn't station its scattered core encampments directly under the Great Cotte Falls on a regular basis, the water was threateningly close by. Cammuravi didn't mind water-based metaphors, necessarily, nor did he harbor the same fear of the actual bodies that he did of heights' precarity, but he did mind the prospect of his arm and hair getting drenched out by a misstep or unexpected splash.

Lacking Delta to return to, however, he soon made peace with the momentary discomfort caused by the mist, knowing that Isurd would be there to greet him, dry office at hand.