"She… could never hurt me."
There was a static; a crackle in the air that continuously repeated itself, almost turning into a hum. It was coming from the outer layers of Xinyan's skin; there was some sort of sizzle, or perhaps a whisper-- a whisper of two opposite forces intertwining with each other.
Surtr was currently covering Xinyan's body with a heat high enough to counteract the seemingly endless mist of ice that fumed from her body. Surtr had to maintain this temperature, as going just even a tiny bit higher would probably burn Xinyan's skin.
Even if Xinyan was conscious, she wouldn't feel any pain from this; perhaps some sort of jolt, but that was it.
