Editing Kena

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The door slammed shut in the least god's metallic face.  Rivers pushed past Obsidian Vigil and sent a sylph skittering in circles looking for invisible demon houseflies.  When he reached the apex of the volcano he sat facing the fading sun and flicked stones into the gaping maw of the deadly cinder cone.  "Nymphs... hmph..."
 
The door slammed shut in the least god's metallic face.  Rivers pushed past Obsidian Vigil and sent a sylph skittering in circles looking for invisible demon houseflies.  When he reached the apex of the volcano he sat facing the fading sun and flicked stones into the gaping maw of the deadly cinder cone.  "Nymphs... hmph..."
  
βˆ’
For a moment he allowed himself to think back and remember her... crimson lips and ivory cheeks, eyes like glittering shards of ice... the hair cropped boyishly short to fit in the helmet, raven black with pixy whorls at her temples and unruly spikes at the crown of her head.  But the lips... the touch of the lips was feather-light, like the first snow flake of winter, heralding a blizzard that numbed and burned as it buried him in wave after wave of sensation.  He leaned back, and for a moment he tottered on the brink of the volcano, barely buoyed by the super-heated thermal currents, barely protected by his own flaring anima banner.  He looked up at the iconic images of essence waving above him in clockwork symmetry, an image of a fortress impenetrable and marvelous, ever-changing and evolving.
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For a moment he allowed himself to think back and remember her... crimson lips and ivory cheeks, eyes like glittering shards of ice... the hair cropped boyishly short to fit in the helmet, raven black with pixy whorls at her temples and unruly spikes at the crown of her head.  But the lips... the touch of the lips was feather-ligh, like the first snow flake of winter, heralding a blizzard that numbed and burned as it buried him in wave after wave of sensation.  He leaned back, and for a moment he tottered on the brink of the volcano, barely buoyed by the super-heated thermal currents, barely protected by his own flaring anima banner.  He looked up at the iconic images of essence waving above him in clockwork symmetry, an image of a fortress impenetrable and marvelous, ever-changing and evolving.
  
 
A flurry of sparks wafted past his face, and he came to his senses and scrambled away from the edge of the precipice.
 
A flurry of sparks wafted past his face, and he came to his senses and scrambled away from the edge of the precipice.

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