There's a song in your lung and a dream in your eye. (Scorch, any)

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

The silver cub lays wrapped around Scorch’s right fore-hoof, dozing and purring softly. With each tiny expansion of the Spirit’s chest, slivers of Scorch’s vine glow; with each diminution of the same chest, they fade away once more. Protect her at all costs, Amazon had said; and how Scorch enjoys the task. The two have formed something of a kinship, a silent understanding passed through long, uninterrupted stares or fleeting glances. And any time she may glimpse her tattoos becomes a time Scorch values deeply. So she stands in silence, watching the cub and her tattoos fixedly.

Siha – as Scorch has taken to calling her – raises her head suddenly, whiskers twitching. At her wakefulness, the mare’s tattoos cease to flash. Slightly concerned, Scorch raises her own head and gazes in the same direction. Lifting her weightless form from the Jungle soil, the cub meows persistently, looking from Scorch to what has disturbed her slumber.

A moment later, a great howler monkey sounds an alarm, and the whole Jungle screams. Chuckling softly, Scorch meets Siha’s glowing green gaze before slipping into the underbrush.

While the girl may have flight to aid her in this uncertain terrain, Scorch has a third of a century’s practice to maneuver through the fallen trees, the sequoias, the roots, and the vines. Of course, her eyesight helps her choose the surest path too. A special lid slips over her currently dusky-orange eyes, allowing her to see in heat vision. In this way, she tracks down the unfamiliar form which walks through the kingdom, and sometimes hovers above it.

“You are trespassing,” She says quietly, though a certain amount of malice backs the tone. Her lips twitch, itching to reveal bladed teeth; but none now remain for her to flaunt. “I am Scorch. Who are you, to ignore our borders so bravely, and so foolishly?” She settles her weight evenly, eyeing the smaller girl who twinkles like a firefly now and again. Eyeing the girl calmly, the Khaleesi awaits a response, cool in her demeanor, though not overly hostile.

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle