room at the top [any] [finished]

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

She'd been like him, once, though only for a very short period of her life (her first four years, if she remembered correctly); normal, uninteresting - a bay roan mare with little else to her than spitfire attitude and dazzling green eyes. In truth, had it not been for the dragon dream and the fire that'd followed her from that dream back to reality, she would still be that regular-looking mare: all of her magicks are psychic. Though I suppose if you count her eyes - gifts of that dragon dream - she does have one fancy thing.

But for a mare as hideous as her, she deserved her sparkling eyes.

His eyes went to her sparks of light with the alertness only intelligent creatures bore, and she smiled to see it. She felt as though there were two types of men these days: the brothers of Ischia, and the absolute jack asses who thought they could rule Beqanna with one wimpy spiel to take a crown. Amateurs; if she had less allegiance to Nerine, she would show them how it's done - but alas, no matter how much she gnashed her teeth for need of power, she would remain obedient to the Amazons first. Always.

The stallion opposite her allowed an equally reserved greeting, and for a time, their eyes did the talking for them. As the night air billowed around them, Scorch wondered at her dappled companion; at the years she saw in the depths of his eyes, and in the way he seemed to just fit perfectly here. Something about him, and yet... What was it? A determination solidified in her gut. I will find out.

His vague answer to her statement gives rise to a smirk on her charred lips; not one of contempt, but of interest and friendliness. She liked this man; liked his elusive, blase character. Perhaps because she was neither of those things; but opposites attract, dontcha know? Her head tilted a little teasingly at the question, as though in thought; but when she straightened her head to answer, it came honestly and with intrigue.

"Those who are not from here don't stand the way you do, my friend." She looked at him pointedly, wondering at just how ancient he must be; for the more she stood in his presence, the more she realized how great a history there had been in Beqanna before even herself. She stood at the hooves of a legend... Or at least, she felt that way. "You are a part of Beqanna's life energy. I can see you pulsing with Her heartbeat."

As the little bit of poetry came from her unworthy mouth, a stallion came to interrupt. Scorch snorted irately at his untimely arrival, and stepped away from him and closer to the legend as her private space was intruded upon. He introduced himself, and she flicked an ear in disinterest. She hadn't the time for stallions who placed themselves in the second category she'd established for Beqannian men - and if first impressions were anything, this new stallion was among that group.

Shoulders rolling as she was forced to settle into this new position, Scorch half-listened to this Arthas, and then to the other's response. At it's brusqueness, a grin came unbidden to the mare's lips; what surprises this meadow-dweller held! In her lifetime, she'd yet to meet another with the same ability to deliver scathing remarks; perhaps this Everclear would give her a run for her money.

(She did not recognize his name as one of legend, but still, she hoped; no, she believe.)

"I came because I see you." The weight of her gaze implied that she did not mean literally, but rather, that she could see his years; his wisdom; his compatibility to everything she upheld and believed. A glance was spared to Arthas, but she continued to address the dappled stallion in the end - perhaps if she knew this man had overtaken a kingdom just earlier this week, that would be different. "My name is Scorch, though a name means little."

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

@[Everclear]