
The heat, the arid air, the perspiration that somehow left her feeling both drenched and yet dried out simultaneously...many of the other players seemed to be doing okay — or at least, they were sucking it up and dealing with the disadvantageous circumstances, but Amane needed a break. She'd never been one for sports, or any sort of exertion, really, and though technically in this world the fitness of her body wasn't exactly an issue, as long as her brain thought that her body should be tired, it felt almost as if her very bones were weighed down with coal, and every ragged breath that she took practically inhaled more soot than oxygen at this point. Sure, she felt a little guilty that she wasn't doing her part to the fullest, but the brief respite that they'd been given priorly was long over, the spells that she had been casting after that was starting to drain her, both mentally and literally, her energy bar a smidgen of blue when compared to how it was at the beginning of the battle.
At any rate, it seemed like her help wasn't needed. For a heart-stopping moment the felis had frozen in shock from her vantage point on top of the spire as a player (bravely, foolishly?) jumped into Azog's core, the boss imploding into a sheet of frost in the wake of their actions, banishing the heat that she had such problems with. Though the mage didn't even notice the change in temperature, too caught up in processing that a player had just been willing to sacrifice their life, and so easily as well. With fumbled words — heart seized in alarm — she began casting a resurrection spell, only snapping her jaw shut when the telltale glow of another revive illuminated the temple, someone apparently having taken action before her. And it was only then, with everyone safe, that it started to dawn on her. Oh, the fight's over.
Of course, the worst case scenario had to happen. Murphy's Law, and all that. By then, her energy had recovered quite a bit, and though she hadn't been very necessary to the fight, she was well-rested; this was something she could do. A quick gesture later and her consciousness hurtled across the span of the temple, cold suddenly radiating off the icy floor she now stepped on. "Everyone, if you can still move, fall back!" She yelled, grabbing onto the person closest to her, before teleporting back to the spire that she'd came from, biting back the queasiness that shot to the bottom of her gut on impact. Swallowing down the bout of nausea, she blinked one more time onto the fracturing form of Azog, desperately casting her gaze around for anyone that hasn't yet been saved, even as the ground started to break way beneath her feet.
Standing beside an ice platform that someone else had erected, a blond girl — the support that she had noticed earlier — looked like she was blatantly refusing to get on it. Though curious, Amane didn't have time to question or ponder the girl's reasons: they needed to get off the boss, and off it now. "Sorry," the felis said, snatching her arm none too gently as her other hand mimed the required gestures. Seconds later the world would dissolve around the two of them, reforming into a bird's view as Amane appeared once more atop the spire.