[ For all the raw power that Naminé possesses, she's at a fundamental disadvantage where using it is concerned. Aside from having a gentle nature, she's spent such a long time learning not to apply the full extent of her magic, and when that's coupled with such an intense degree of isolation, of stillness, of being afraid to move a muscle-- how could she ever possibly compare to his level of experience?
The long and the short of it is that she doesn't like her chances, and she likes them even less if Ferran manages to get up close. But that's not enough to force her to relax the chokehold she has on what of her morals she can still recognize in this state, despite the rain of ice she was wholly unprepared for that drops down on her from above. Her startled squawk becomes a sharper yelp of pain as one particularly large chunk makes contact with her shoulder; it might not have the force her spell did, but she's also spent far less time being physically attacked than he has, and is not nearly as well protected.
Clumsily, she manages to deflect some of the ice with a quick cast of Reflect and an upraised arm, but her dress is looking decidedly chillier to don than before. She has the good fortune, at least, not to be wearing something that hinges, and thus she's saved the trouble of having to break up the more loosely-placed frost in order to move.
She doesn't look happy, regardless. The heat of her frustration flares in her eyes, this time more genuinely. (It does not, however, stop her from beginning to shiver as she clasps one hand to her abused shoulder, trying to warm it the best she can without that warmth causing actual fire.) And already he's advancing on her, of course - which only drives home what she's begun to realize; she needs some distance. ]
No, [ she answers back, leaving her shoulder be a moment to outstretch her arm again. ] ... You don't.
[ The magic that flies forth this time is hardly visible at all - more like a ripple or distortion in the air than anything tangible, and it misses him besides. Why should become clear a moment later when Magnet opens up a void some distance from him, which immediately begins to try to draw everything within range toward it, including Ferran himself. If he's not quick enough to brace against it or manage some way out of its reach, he might find himself getting tossed around most dizzyingly. ]
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The long and the short of it is that she doesn't like her chances, and she likes them even less if Ferran manages to get up close. But that's not enough to force her to relax the chokehold she has on what of her morals she can still recognize in this state, despite the rain of ice she was wholly unprepared for that drops down on her from above. Her startled squawk becomes a sharper yelp of pain as one particularly large chunk makes contact with her shoulder; it might not have the force her spell did, but she's also spent far less time being physically attacked than he has, and is not nearly as well protected.
Clumsily, she manages to deflect some of the ice with a quick cast of Reflect and an upraised arm, but her dress is looking decidedly chillier to don than before. She has the good fortune, at least, not to be wearing something that hinges, and thus she's saved the trouble of having to break up the more loosely-placed frost in order to move.
She doesn't look happy, regardless. The heat of her frustration flares in her eyes, this time more genuinely. (It does not, however, stop her from beginning to shiver as she clasps one hand to her abused shoulder, trying to warm it the best she can without that warmth causing actual fire.) And already he's advancing on her, of course - which only drives home what she's begun to realize; she needs some distance. ]
No, [ she answers back, leaving her shoulder be a moment to outstretch her arm again. ] ... You don't.
[ The magic that flies forth this time is hardly visible at all - more like a ripple or distortion in the air than anything tangible, and it misses him besides. Why should become clear a moment later when Magnet opens up a void some distance from him, which immediately begins to try to draw everything within range toward it, including Ferran himself. If he's not quick enough to brace against it or manage some way out of its reach, he might find himself getting tossed around most dizzyingly. ]