It had been a long time since Dusk held a bonfire. He'd had to actually use a torch and a bunch of oil and nonsense to start it, this time - in the old world, he'd just breathe fire and will it into existence. Not anymore. Something about Agrelos had altered his abilities; he held onto his shadowy abilities, but his ability to spit flame was... absent. That wasn't a bad thing. It had brought him a lot of grief in the past - as a boy, he burned down his own house, here. It was good that at least that wouldn't happen again.
In the center of camp, his tall fire burned bright. Little turned-over logs surrounded the flames - chairs - and there were plenty of snacks stashed here and there. Dusk sat on a soft, well-worn log, and warmed himself by the flames. All that was missing was a bit of company, though he assumed he'd be joined soon. Who could resist a good fire...? Stars overhead, Dusk glanced around him, his blue eyes reflecting the firelight into the darkness. "Anyone want to join me for a bonfire?" the leader asked, hopeful. "We can tell scary stories... or you know. Normal ones."