"He could. I did choose his breed for a very good reason, Mr. Strange, and this is only one of them," Childermass informs rather matter-of-factly. He put a lot of research behind his choice of weird elemental buddy, dude, so just trust him on this one.

The Growlithe lets the first long blast of fire trail off, hopping back a step to look over his handiwork. He's made a fairly deep dent in the ice, lake water that wasn't evaporated from the blast melting and dripping into a puddle at the bottom of a pit at least a yard deep now.

Leaving Strange where he dragged him off to, Childermass slides carefully back across the ice — he freezes any time he hears an unexpected creak — and close enough to the dog to look down the hole as well.

"Hm. Might need another blast or two."