WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

They'd never met, somehow.

After years and years and decades and so on of existence, somehow the two characteristically loud-spoken females had never once come across each other. Oh sure, Scorch knew her now from kingdom meetings and what not - but back in the day, she'd been too young to really identify the mage solidly enough to form any sort of opinion on her. What Scorch was left to work on, really, was the fact that Hestia had trusted her, that she was a mage, and that she hadn't supported to linking of Ischia to Nerine.

Don't sound so enthused about it you crispy fucking rat.
Would you not swear me out in every other sentence please?? I am a woman of decency, Hestia.
Shut up Scorch, you love it. Anyway, bugging you is about the funnest part of my day, so how could you begrudge me that?
Just be good! Sheesh, I thought you were pesky enough alive.

Shaking her head with a deep-throated chuckle, Scorch excused herself from the ghostly conversation and sighed. Looking at her surroundings, and then to the sun, she figured that Djinni would probably be north of her; the Queen stood near the southern border, so it was more than likely. The gold-banded little mare didn't do much traveling, so unless she went out of her way to avoid this particular crispy rat, today would be the day of their official meeting.

As the sun casually drifted from its throne high above, Scorch found her way to the little rosey mare. The scent of her was strong along this particular row of birch trees, and so the mare let out a low call for her. Hopeful that Djinni would appear, Scorch settled down among the black-and-white trees, ears flicking attentively.

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle