The flames danced in his hands, eager to reach out and devour all nearby. Shadows writhed on the wall as if in agony, agony of being confined to merely decorations on objects. Steely grey eyes stared in the flames, wondering if the flames were truly the representation of destruction.

Gulver toyed with the notion of going back to his old ways of death and destruction for a moment. "On one hand, it could be quite stress reliving, on the other, I made a deal with that Sorceress to contact her friends quietly...."

Deciding to wait some more, Gulver clasped his hand shut, putting out the flames between his palms and fingers. For a instant, he imagined the flames crying in rage for being denied a chance to devour. The stranger threw his head back, resting against a beam in the abandoned house that he have taken up residence in. "God, I am so bored... I hope these 'allies' hurry up before I decide to torch this plane."