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Cynder wasn't in sight. That much he was able to figure out on his own. The liquid presumably, by the scalding heat it gave off, was as untrustworthy as the white fire he shook hands with earlier. As he didn't know where Cynder had flown to, Spyro decided to stay put and wait for her to return. Using his dominion over earth, he raised a platform above the crimson trails. No burns for him... Or so he thought. Now trapped under his earth dome whilst the lava flew in all directions thanks to falling slabs of the volcano rim, he hoped that the red liquid was all that attacked his shield; purple dragon or rainbow coloured, those souvenirs of the explosion were big. And he was no Terrador.
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