His grip on the fire weakens, until he can't feel it at all. Not in his mind, anyway, not in his veins — just on his palms when he holds them out. Well, at least he's got it burning strong enough that it should last, as long as he keeps feeding it cornhusks.

"You sound like my teacher," Wilhelm says, mostly just to say something that isn't an awkward thanks.

It's a nice little metaphor. Just because the situation seems hopeless, it doesn't mean there isn't a dim ember to keep alive. He'll try to hold onto that.