WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT
Not a day passes that the ugly mare is not grateful for her beautiful child. As the months have worn on, Philomena's confidence has grown. The little filly braves the unknown and tolerates solitude when Scorch's duties beckon, a gift that does not go unappreciated. Independent children are not exactly prototypical.
The sun warms her broad hairless back as she maneuvers through Nerine, enjoying the hum of nature as it prepares for autumn. She smells distinctly of the field, of strangers and ambition. Unfortunately she returns empty-handed today, but that's the way of things. Not everyone is suited to life in Nerine, and she respects that; but her heart squeezes a little at the disappointment, and she flares her nostrils, searching for her daughter's scent so that she may spend her afternoon with a presence she enjoys.
Just as her large hooves pivot towards the beach (where Mina can reliably be found), a tiny, feminine whinny floats to her ears. Smiling, Scorch wheels around and lopes comfortably in the direction of her daughter, her disappointment forgotten.
"Good afternoon Mina," her gruff voice sounds as she pulls up next to the pretty creature standing patiently for her. Her cracked lips instinctively seek out the scruffy strands of mane that stick out in odd directions, soothing them down though the effort is fruitless. Still, the calming touch is commonplace between them, and a moment passes in silence before more is spoken.
What can I say? Scorch missed being a mom. This time, with her little one still little enough to cuddle and groom, is beyond precious.
"How are you darling?" Her massive frame removes itself from the painted girl so that their eyes meet. "Keeping busy while I'm away?"
Scorch
Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle