Eyyyy, is it hot in here or is it just Axel?

"'Tamed'?" he echoes, looking a little indignant. He folds his arms. "I prefer to think of it as 'disciplined', maybe... but... po-tay-to po-tah-to, I guess." He grumbles a bit. No one would dare call a brush fire or a fire tornado tame, he thinks, but... well, mileage may vary, perhaps. Maybe. He won't deny that there's a savage wildness to lightning that fire lacks, but he's a little too proud to admit that aloud to a stranger.

He meets the tall woman's eye for a moment and then pulls up his own rolly-squishy seat, waving a hand at the flames that now curl away from the base of the fire and making them dance in tiny whirls. Glancing at her, he smiles a little.

"Fire's my forté," he says, and then waggles a hand back and forth, as if in uncertainty. "I used to be able to do a few others, but seems the Storm or something got in the way of that," he says. "I mean, fire is the only one I've got a real knack for, but having the others was handy." He clicks his tongue. "Guess it's true you don't appreciate it 'til it's gone," he says with exaggeratedly maudlin disappointment. "But, I mean... I learned it once, I can probably learn it again, right?"