"HATCHI!"
The sound was small, bordering on pathetic, really, but in the silence of the Duke's private study, it cracked through the air like a dropped vase.
Cherion froze, blinking rapidly as his nose twitched. He barely had time to recover before a violent shudder raked down his spine, forcing his shoulders up toward his ears. It wasn't the cold, but something deeper. A sudden, phantom chill that felt like icy fingers ghosting over his skin. He rubbed his upper arms vigorously, frowning at the goosebumps rising beneath his sleeves..
"Are you okay?"
Cherion looked up as Zarius's quill was paused over a stack of parchment that looked thick enough to act as a shield in battle.
"I'm fine," Cherion said quickly. "Just... dust."
