With his hand against the colossal, far-spanning dome that served as the protecting exterior for the elven clan within, the Dragonheart expanded his own mana within it, feeling the breathless wind inhabiting the interior.
Through the expansion of the young man's bountiful mana, he could sense everything within the closed-off village; it was occupied, but not just by the cold-hearted hunters. The gentle breaths of wind he commanded as an extension of his own senses brushed against elven children that played within the walls, watched by their mothers; some were trained by their fathers, speaking in familiar tongue.
"I…"
Witnessing the familiarity of it all, Emilio's eyes inadvertently opened as he felt his connection break with the magecraft he had been carefully conjuring.
"Everything alright?" Sirius asked.
"Yeah, you look pale, like you've seen a ghost or somethin'. Ya good?" Everett concernedly asked, stepping closer.
