Harrow's ears swivel around and flatten against his mane. He paws bashfully at his fluffy cheeks. "Shoot," he growls shyly. "Now you're goin' and flatterin' me, and after all I said about you earlier? Man, I just wanna say I didn't really mean you're a two-bit shaman. Your crystal thing's real cool. If it don't offend you I'd really love to take that leaf home and give it to my boyfriend. Guy likes makin' jewelry, I bet he'll be real charmed."

Then, having said that, he takes a few steps backwards to give himself a two yard distance from Ixis. He raises one hand into the air and the other he swings in circles, whirling like a windmill. A breeze not unlike the one on which Ixis rode in starts up around him, but more than an autumn's gust this air is brutally cold. What little water was in the air freezes into shards of ice and flakes of snow that swirl around him, whipping up his fur.

The winter winds subside the moment he lowers his hands. His ears flick back and forth, torn between listening closely and expressing some small amount of guilt. "It ain't as fun to watch when there ain't no one around to freeze. The point of it's to get folks trapped up in the winds. Confuses 'em, tears up their skin, freezes their feet to the ground. Sometimes their whole bodies get frozen."

Finally his ears settle flat against his mane. "Probably ain't right to talk about violence like that in a good place like this."