( He does not like this. Sticky things, things that trap and bind him. He has nightmares about drowning, it's part of why his quicksand is only ever waist deep. The trap spreads fast, and he's trying to burn his way out, flames roaring over his skin, billowing out but doing nothing to the trap.
Atlas shoots her a look, snorting out smoke to mark his displeasure. )
:c
Atlas shoots her a look, snorting out smoke to mark his displeasure. )