(no subject)
Lucivar is inside, holding a cup of what might pass for coffee somewhere and looking rather cold and a bit snowy, muttering to himself. He'd forgotten how much witches liked snow, and made the mistake of venturing outside without a shield to protect himself from the barrage of snowballs from invisible witches.
However, despite the grumbling, there is an amused, relaxed, and altogether cheerful air about Lucivar that is more than rare, but rather unheard of for most people here.
However, despite the grumbling, there is an amused, relaxed, and altogether cheerful air about Lucivar that is more than rare, but rather unheard of for most people here.