and when i breathed - scorch

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

No, it is absolutely not true that big girls don’t cry. On too many occasions tears have streaked Scorch’s wide cheeks before drying, or on the darkest days, dripped on to the earth below. Echion’s death, Rain’s lifelessness, Kagerou’s death, and Hestoni’s enslavement all come to mind. Alas, in these moments, as she listens with baited breath, Scorch denies her tears access to her skin. During the beginning of Rhy’s retelling, her puce-green eyes swim and sparkle; as time passes, however, they dry, solidify.

She speaks not, listening instead to the tale which to others may surely appear tall. To Scorch, however, each word vibrates with an undeniable truth. Her mind wanders briefly to the dragon dream, and to the horror-nightmare; perhaps these events are not as uncommon as she once believed. Watching Rhy, Scorch subconsciously twines threads of light through her cream mane. Shadows simply do not suit the Avthillar.

Minutes later, as Rhy’s words halt, Scorch allows a grin to crack her expression. Though a plethora of differences lies between them, she simply cannot deny the friendship which the two have built from the ground up. She stills remembers Rhy stumbling upon the scene of Simeon’s birth, and the subsequent kindling of their amicability. How they have both grown.

“Damn, girl. You got a helluva story in your pocket for scaring your kids to sleep now. The ghost-shifting will definitely add to the imagery.” Her bellowing laugh ricochets off of the surrounding greenery, echoing Rhy’s lighter laugh. “But really. Thank you. I’ll definitely take you up on that offer one day.” Her eyes soften slightly, and though she does not verbally explain, her eyes show that she must wait until the crown passes. Seeing Kagerou again – and Echion and Rain – would surely break her for some months, and letting down the Jungle is not one of her responsibilities. Not even for dreams which have suddenly become reality.

“Quite frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t fall off of the fellow. Your balance must be on point, for a diplomat.” The scoundrel winks, allowing herself to ease back into the comfort of their friendship after the shock of what happened. “Clearly you’ve been taking lessons from Lagertha though, if you fought monster-gods and time-eaters. Quite an impressive scar as proof, too.” She leans to the side, craning her neck to gaze upon the wound once more.

Straightening, her grin turns grim. “And Rhy, however much I fucking loath Carnage, I’m glad he got you and Lagertha – and Wrynn and Nihlus – back safely.” Her yellow-green gaze clouds over with specks of flint and angry red, teeth grinding beneath her skin. Swallowing, she relaxes her jaw, wiggling it slowly until she can manage on last phrase. “But he is not capable of love.”

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle