Getting more and more confused the longer I tried to analyze my feelings, I eventually gave up and went back to what I was doing before. Seeing the effects of the flames on his skin, I started to wonder what my ice would do to him.
My poor, neglected ice power that I more often than not forgot that I had. I would have to make a conscious effort to use it more often so it wouldn't disappear into the background, never to be seen again.
Calling the ice, I pictured the man's shoes freezing to the ground with solid chunks of ice raising up to about mid-calf preventing him from being able to move his feet and legs. The ice, slowly at first, obeyed my commands and I saw the moment that the imprisoned man understood what was going on.
