"What took you so long," Hiro wrenched himself free from Ludwig's grip, though it was Ludwig who relaxed his grip. Mot was a far more dangerous person than Hiro could ever amount to be.
Hiro staggered back a step on the slick ice, his breath pluming in quick, angry bursts. The cold gnawed at the exposed edges of armor; the sky above was a dull iron lid, pressing sound flat against the frozen plateau. Ludwig's fingers opened, deliberate and unhurried, as if releasing something far more troublesome than the man in front of him. He watched Hiro with the same wary patience one affords to a blade left rattling on a table, dangerous, yes, but not the most dangerous thing in the room.
He then pointed his sword at Ludwig, "CATCH THIS BLASPHEMER! I'll kill you with my own hands."
