
WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT
Mountain’s rambling chips away at what little patience and calm Scorch had left, leaving her with only one mechanism: silence. She watches him more so than listens, though she’s finding his loud voice to be more irritating than the Howlers at midnight. When he’s finally silent, Scorch has quite the answer built up (mostly in the form of steam about to shoot from her large ears) when Lagertha shows up.
And mark my words, for I’ll never say them again, Scorch was bloody glad.
”I’m sure that I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mountain, but you are no friend of mine. The only horses I count among that number bear the vine and flower.” She speaks heavily, though not only towards the King; her eyes find Lagertha’s for a split second before returning to their prior position. ”And I must say that your lack of understanding (that is, for family, steal classifications, and security) is quite concerning. Have you always been so foolish, or has it developed with old age?”
Well, he is to be replaced. If ever there was an opportunity for Scorch to release her true bitch potential, now would be the time. In fact, she’s happy of the opportunity. Too many things have gone awry for her to even try and dam the onslaught of anger she feels inside; hell, every knows she’s never been good at that task.
”So to answer your question, no, it was not a mistake. Nihlus is blood of my blood, he is child of my child. So no matter his age, he is made of iron, unlike his king.” Her voice is not very loud necessarily, but her tone writhes with scorn. ”If you think for one moment that my progeny are too weak for a simple steal, I’ll politely remind you who you are dealing with.” A bit of a pedestal she has placed herself upon, but as I’ve said, to hell with manners and courtesies.
Mimicking Lagertha with a lean of her weight into one hip, Scorch lazily shifts her gaze to her ‘bloodrider.’ ”So, Lagertha, what are we to do with… This?”
Scorch
Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle
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