oxer stretched and got up off the rug. He walked to the fire, poked
at it with the poker until the sparks flew, used the bellows to puff some
air at it and nearly put the fire out entirely, tried to decide whether
the flames were like clouds and if he could see any pictures in them, picked
up a log and dropped it on top of the fire, then poked at the whole thing
with the poker until the new log fell off the pile and onto the hearth
where it nearly set fire to the rug. He stomped at the tendril of fire
before it did more than singe the white fur and kicked the log onto the
stone floor where it lay cooling and smoking. He inspected the rug and
decided that it wasn't really all that noticeable and it wasn't worth trying
to wash the soot out before Ares got back.
He walked over to the door, opened it, looked around, then closed it
again. Then he walked around the Temple, touching the various weapons on
the wall, picking up a sword and swinging it at an imaginary enemy. But
the sword was heavier than it looked and pulled him off balance. He set
it back on its pegs and sighed. He went up to the raised platform and sat
down in Ares throne, tried humming to himself, and finally stopped. His
voice echoed strangely in the dimly lit Temple and he wished he had asked
Ares for some more mood lighting before he'd left. The Temple was kind
of spooky and he watched as his own silhouette was cast onto the wall by
the light of the few candles at his sides.
Read the rest via the link in the description!