Quark only

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

She’s not showing quite yet, though in a month or two she’ll be a lead balloon. And at that point, she’ll already recognize the symptoms of twins, and probably kill someone or something three seconds later. Two sets of these little assholes later, Scorch simply does not care for their extravagant needs and the wearing affect they have on her aged body. And, well… She may be immortal, but her mind never stopped aging. Suffice to say, she’s contemplated submitting to her cranky old woman desires; or maybe she’s just really pregnant. Again.

Having had a sickly morning, the Khaleesi slips into her hidey spot. It’s not often the woman seeks true privacy, one where she can almost admit to forgetting her duties. Alas, even without her tattoos gracing her hideous, scarred body, Scorch can never quite abandon her post as current keeper of the Jungle.

Regardless, when Scorch’s heat-vision eyes can sense no equine form in the distance, she begins shifting slowly. Relatively new to the world of the skin-changers, Scorch doesn’t realize the potential damage she could do to her child in the process. Luckily, the child(ren) are so freshly conceived that they merely float comfortably within her, totally undisturbed for the time being.

Sporting two fearsome horns, leathery grey skin, and for tree-trunk legs, rhinoceros-Scorch tumbles almost happily along her secret little path. She’s gotten quite good at navigating the Jungle in this form, but she mostly frequents this trail; the one leading to a small lake near the lower grounds of the Jungle. She approaches it with perked ears and huge, flared nostrils; she bellows lowly, beady eyes bright.

Tumbling playfully into the blue-green waters, Scorch swings her powerful head from side to side, scanning for her wild crash. The local herd of Javan rhinos could be found reliably in this spot, especially when Scorch came to visit them. At first they had been skeptical of the strangely aware shifter, but after some devoted time, the wild animals came to accept her as one of their own. The other day, Scorch witnessed the birth of a calf; the memory still burns in her memory, and she imagines it always will. It truly was a miracle.

Today, however, something is amiss. Her crash will not come to her call. Snorting loudly, the cow walks cautiously into shallower waters. Frowning, she shifts back into her natural born form, though the two were both so ugly that an asshole might call them indistinguishable. Ears twitching perceptively, the Khaleesi scans the trees mincingly through her heat-seeing eyes.

“Who's there?”

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle