Even in the southern, hotter regions of the Splinterlands were cold and wet that day. Odd for those first summer days, usually filled with the first threatening licks of scorching, unrelenting heat the region's summers would lord over like a giant, raised fist.
No such satisfying tendrils of torture existed for Yodin as he slouched, hovering over one of the few, secret hot-springs that bubbles up from a hidden, overgrown area in his favorite funk-swamp. It has been a while since he's seen the heat of battle. He just wanted to get warm.
Yodin grumbled miserably as the spring's thick, hot bubbles burst with less heat than he remembered, but still with just as much dragon's breath stench. His fur dripped with icy drops of dew that collected as a light, yet unrelenting, drizzling rain continued to dampen his fiery mood and pelt.
Just as he began to wonder what fire-monsters he could summon to keep him warm, a blast suddenly scorched and sizzled the mass of matted fur on his hunched shoulders.
Yodin roared and reared to find an impertinent, devilishly smiling Tarsa who already had a full force of monsters summoned and surrounding her. It seemed the rain did better than only drowning out the heat--he hadn't even heard her (he always viewed her as the noisiest and most annoying of the Fire Summoners).
Yodin reared around and roared, summoning an instant legion of defenders and archers to slow and weaken Tarsa's sudden surprise affront... er... aback???
"This area is MINE, GO AWAY!"
The battle's first blasts and arrows began before his roar was complete...
https://splinterlands.com?p=battle&id=sl_51e11878080d412ad55716fa2c4d068f&ref=wilderwanderer
