Marluxia gave a snort of amusement. "If you insist," he said. He doubted that Lumi was incapable of making fire, given something to catch and something to make sparks, but since this was all about magic...

He brought his arm up, drawing together a firaga spell, no point doing things by halves after all, and then let it loose at the shelter he'd crafted. Fresh wood didn't burn easily, certainly not as well as old, dried out, long dead timber.

The hut burst into flames, the flowers curling and withering as the branches that made up the shelter blackened and caught. The wood popped and cracked noisily as Marluxia put his arm back down, the sap inside the branches exploding outwards and splitting the wood apart. The clearing took on the smell of smoke, and a pall of it rose up towards the sky.

"Anything else?"