[private] baby, please don't go; scorch

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

For once, in the godforsaken sea-side hell, Scorch felt as if maybe it could be the Jungle. The winds snarled and snapped at the ankles of the shelterless, urging Nerine's creatures into her many caves. The rustling of the leaves was what reminded Scorch of her forgotten home; so fearsome and great, strong both in numbers and sound. When she closed her eyes, she could almost be there again.

But there was no time for eye-closing.

Turning to her daughter, the mutilated mare added to the wind's insistence, hurrying the painted girl on through the sparse forest. Eventually, as their hooves clack-ssshhhlid down a slope of pebbles, the little band found themselves in a cave. It was high enough that they would not get washed out at high tide - which was good, because by the looks of the clouds coming in, this would not be a quick splash, but rather a drowning.

The lightning crackled, the thunder boomed. For hours, the two stood in companionable conversation, thinking nothing of the oncoming chaos.

And chaos, it was.

Philomena had fallen asleep at the fall of night, but Scorch stood guard at the mouth of the cave, shoulders rolled back, chin tucked to neck and ears pinned against the spray of rain that reached her from outside. Every time she considered retiring next to Mina, something inside of the woman braced itself, rooting her to the spot, saying wait, wait, wait, just wait, not yet... A misunderstood panic that, should she turn away now, something would go amiss.

--

Mother...

It's nothing. You're hearing things.

--

Where are you, mother?

Her brows furrowed, dripping water across her eyelids. No matter how hard she scoured the landscape, searching for any heat signatures that would indicate a lost child out there, taking on the brunt of the storm, she could see no one. Mina snored softly beside her - but somewhere out there, a different child did not have a mother to stand guard at their cave. Never mind that; they clearly didn't have a cave at all.

When she heard another call, unearthly and needing, she turns. Pressing her lips to Mina's ear, she whispers that she'll be right back, and that under no circumstances should she leave this cave until the storm passed. Her daughter nodded dutifully, if not with some fear and anguish - but Scorch soothes her anxieties, kisses her forehead, and leaves the yearling to worry.

--

The pelting rain stung her bare hide, and the wind harassed her eyelash-less eyes. Minutes had passed, but no figure has apparated before her. Frustrated and chilled, Scorch stopped beneath a birch and focused for a moment. She could not find the lost soul like this, distracted by pain. Closing her eyes, Scorch encased herself in a softly glowing light, like a lantern - the armour created a barrier between herself and the rain, and would guide whoever she looked for to her.

Inhaling deeply, the lighthouse mare set out again, feeling lost and hopeless. What if the child had died? She grit her teeth at the thought. Sending gentle shafts of light out into the raging storm, she called:

"I can hear you, out there!"

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle