[But he did. He witnessed as the mere contact of her fingertips to the window sprouted frost, similar to his own in vine-like patterns that crackles as it crawls.]
❝…–You did that? All on your own?❞
[Softly, he speaks. Sure not to spook her and have that wild, uncontainable power run rampant.]
"You've had three hundred years to perfect your art, Master Frost, whereas I've only had twenty and one. Is it really a surprise that there is a discrepancy between our skill levels?" [ooc;; waaaah, that sounds like fun!] — iskallfrost-deactivated20140905
❝—Master Frost?❞
[He doesn’t recall that term being used before. Not that he doesn’t love it.]