where daylight doesn't matter

Coete's magical control was decidedly weaker than usual, but his physical state definitely affected it. Now the air right near him was cold even to his skin, and some of the sand around him was frozen solid. And then he had to break his new walking stick free.

"I believe I mentioned my leg injury," he said, voice a bit shortened with pain. Dull, angrily throbbing pain.

"Sorry. I needed something to lean on, and my control today is... not at its usual level." As always, dispelling cold was far more difficult for him than summoning it, but with full concentration he managed to at least move the local cold air away towards the water. "Is that better?"

And of course now he was feeling lightheaded from magic use. His strength had really started to fall apart, hadn't it?

Coete rubbed his face with the hand that wasn't wrapped around ice, dizzy and tired and displeased with the odd sensation of peeling skin. "I should probably sit down for a while," he said faintly, and when he reached out with his magic his sense of direction abruptly spun.

He only realized that it had been right when there was sand poking between his scales and against the small patches of skin that were still simply skin. Sand, cold sand, was all he felt from ankle to ear.

When Coete tried to sit up, his brain and stomach spun in opposite directions; he lay back down the little bit he'd moved. "I probably should have found somewhere to rest for a few more days rather than come out wandering," he admitted.

He kept his useless eyes closed; it somehow made him feel better. Not completely better, but not as weak. "I think.. mostly rest," he said slowly. Assess. He'd picked up plenty of medical tidbits from Nalle. It didn't feel like his leg was bleeding, just overused. His magic was just too rough and out of use for his current physical strength, it seemed.

"Water might help," he eventually said, hesitantly and with less uncertainty than he felt at asking.