lost to these linens / hestia, scorch, & any

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

The kingdom felt a little lonelier with her daughter gone off to join the Tephrans. Although Philomena had developed a private life of her own within Nerine's borders, the adopted girl had never gone too many days without coming to spend time with her mother, Scorch; and now that more than a week had passed without her bright-eyed, eager-to-learn daughter around to liven up the mare's occasionally sour moods, Scorch really felt the brunt of what this would mean to her. Kha hadn't been around for some time, preferring his ghost-world to reality; and worst of all, she had a creeping feeling that she would not be able to get pregnant with her husband, Hestoni. There wasn't any proof yet, but...

A gentle call startled her from her somber reflections, causing her head to jolt up and for her ears to perk towards the sound. Nerine often received visitors, but there was one in particular that they'd been expecting since sending Mina to Tephra. Wondering whether this would be her, or, well, him (though she couldn't see a man as competent as Warrick sending a colt to the Amazonian kingdom), Scorch shoved off from where she'd been hiding in the forest to approach the border and the newcomer it held.

Flicking a lid to see in heat signatures, Scorch found the yearling's figure standing out not far off. When she came closer, the lid slipped away, and she studied the filly's bay hide and bright, curious eyes. A nicker slipped throatily from her; perhaps one as ugly as herself would be more reserved in greeting others, but after a life time of mutilation, Scorch felt no need to present herself as any less than those around her. And if Warrick was wise, he might have warned his daughter of Nerine's Advisor's appearance once or twice.

"Hello," came her brusque voice, low and choppy from the fire that'd ravaged her vocal chords a lifetime ago. Her lips remained smileless, but her eyes twinkled in a way that softened the hardened, warrior-esque persona she projected in this moment. First impressions and all - especially for girls coming to be trained by the legendary Amazons - of whom there were maybe three left. Scorch being one of them.

"Are you the Tephran girl we've been expecting?" Her eyes traveled blatantly over the filly's figuring, studying her, perhaps classifying her at once as either diplomat or warrior. If this girl meant business, if she truly wanted to be trained - she would accept the roaming eye, and anything else Scorch decided to throw her way. Eventually, when satisfaction met her, Scorch looked back into the girl's eyes and spoke in a gruff tone. "I am Scorch. Welcome to Nerine."

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

@[Wishbone]