[Quickly, irritably, Damian sits straight up in the hole of the snow and grunts. Small piles of it sit on top of his head and his shoulders, but he glares ahead of himself without brushing any of it off.]
Dammit. [This fairytale puppet sorcerer is a pain in his ass.] I'm fine. [He glances over at her.]
no subject
Dammit. [This fairytale puppet sorcerer is a pain in his ass.] I'm fine. [He glances over at her.]
Are you injured?