I am peeling the skin off my face

He grits his teeth against the agony as the white-hot lava touches the bare flesh of his shoulder. It's not as bad as when it leaks from his face, because then there's always the very real concern about it going into his eyes and blinding him. It seems to work, though, and he steps away from the tree with a small grunt of pain. Immediately the lava flow stops and hardens against his shoulder, and he knows it won't be long before it crusts over and hardens into a shell that he will need to crack off. The filly reaches into the tree and pulls out a heart. It's an actual heart, too, much to his surprise. So the Rift's trees really are alive? The colt peers at the prize with evident interest, musing over this new scenario. By this logic, everything here could be alive and sentient, from the grass they eat to the ferns they brush so carelessly past. Now the heart has been ripped free, does that mean the tree is dead? If so, it seems dreadfully gruesome, cruel almost, to create something alive but utterly incapable of defending itself against a physical threat. She asks for his name; he gives it. "My name is Vulkán," he says. "Do you think that heart is enough to complete your trial, or could there be more organs you need to harvest?"

image: naia-art

@Castiella We can do exits next round maybe? Unless she needs more organs :O