I lock myself inside these walls, cause out there I'm always wrong. [Scorch//Any]

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

Once upon a time, Scorch had been a mare who wouldn't have caused Breckin to raise even a single eyelash. Despite having been dramatically swapped at birth, for the first five years of her life, that happened to be the only interesting thing about Scorch (unless you counted her spitfire personality, which, okay, so there's two interesting things about her). She'd been born bay roan, with green eyes, to a Amazonian queen (or so she had been lead to believe). Until her dragon dream - and later on her mirror dream - and later again to her queenship - she had been utterly normal.

So, suffice to say, hope remained still that Breckin would become adjusted to Beqanna's magic in more ways than simple exposure to it. The faeries always found interesting ways to play with the mortal's lives; Scorch suspected that they wouldn't leave this untainted beauty alone for long.

She hadn't intended to run into Breckin on her way back to the field for another attempt at recruiting, but the way the mare's white-and-black fur caught the thin winter light flagged her down as someone worth attending to. Her hooves stood planted on the other side of the scentline still, which Scorch in her old grouchy ways appreciated, and so Scorch took her time approaching, wondering at the way the mare meandered down the coast line sniffing at the sand-stars.

"Breckin," the warrior called in her most amiably voice, though it still sounded hoarse and ugly to anyone not familiar with the woman. She closed the final distance between them, dipping her head in greeting. "I'm glad that you were able to make time to see Nerine." Her lips curled into a friendly smile. "Please, join me! I'll show you around a bit. There's far more of those sand-stars around, I can promise you that."

Not having to wait long for Breckin to come alongside the sturdily built advisor, Scorch began treading from the beach towards a grassier forested area nearer the center of Nerine. Her molten red gaze flashed from their surroundings to the mare often, thoughts percolating behind their glowing depths; she knew that Breckin held great curiosity towards her absolute baldness, and for once, she almost wanted to be questioned - far too long had passed since anyone asked about her ugly nakedness.

Babe. Really? You're being a narcissist. Scorch scowled internally at her husband's rude interruption, but did of course listen to his otherworldly advice, finally turning to Breckin to talk to her about something a little less self-indulged.

"So, did you come from a specific land or were you in the Beyond, as some here call it? A nondescript land, essentially." She looked back to their path, continuing to speak. "We've many who come here from elsewhere though, other lands like Beqanna, but also different." The winter breeze picked up suddenly then, and Scorch shielded herself with a thin cloak of tangible twilight - barely visible. "Either is okay, I'm just curious is all."

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle
Advisor to Nerine's Hestia