A rather small and unhappy 'star' guttered and hissed inside a pocket of low pressure and thermally protected air. The small bead of what was essentially semi-constant fire, flickering as it was fed oxygen, hung only a couple handspans above a wooden floor. To the reincarnator, it was merely a sort of chemistry… held on a very short leash of a kind of control that she was highly confident in. To almost anyone else in the territory it would have read as a small, if beautiful, disaster - waiting to become a larger one.
'Probably what they think of me in general, hm?'
