WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

The tides of Beqana swelled and threatened to turn, whooshing and cawing in the throat of gulls and the cries of babes as war dawned upon their ethereal horizon. The electricity of the change seemed almost to revive Scorch, who had in some ways slumbered these past seasons. Who could blame her, though; a second attempt at conception had thwarted her and Hestoni, and for some time, the grief of coming to terms with her more-than-likely infertility had overwhelmed her ability to properly shoulder her duties as Dosh.

But as autumn turned to winter and the months passed her by, Scorch slowly came out from her depression to breathe in the crisp, snow-filled air as if born anew. The small rose on the right-hand side of her chest glistened wetly against her hairless, mutilated skin, a reminder of what the kingdom of Nerine attempted to preserve in its nature and ways; she, Scorch, was the last remnant of a dead culture. She alone now was marked by the Jungle Rose and Vine.

Sending a bristling cloud of vapour up from her nostrils, the Amazon set out from her place in the base of Nerine's pine forest, southward. She had it in mind to visit a kingdom whose new king had been present during Wishbone's coronation, the shifting of the crown from her ancient and wise head to one full of youth, vigor, and innovation. Though Scorch would always be available to lead the Leviathans, she knew when to step back, too; that being said, she had a keen interest in meeting the young stallion who'd now signed on contractually to serving Nerine, and thus had set out to find him.

Sped along by distracting herself with some tricks of light and darkness, it felt like no time at all had passed before Scorch found herself resting just outside the Loessian scent line. Although she'd never visited before, something about the air here sat differently in her lungs than she'd always imagined.

Settling into a hip, her spectacularly keen eyes flicked to heat vision, watching carefully for one to approach her silently knocking presence.

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

"I would try, had I not already burnt it off." The humour of her voice rang out between them easily, her grin characteristically foxish - clever, and calm. "Would that your stalwart advice had been given to me decades ago." He finished his little jab with a flourish of his own, teeth showing as he grinned at her unabashedly. Finding him excellent company already, she stepped forward and alongside him, gesturing as if to say lead me to these pools you speak of.

"A pleasure, Wolfbane," She offered, her smirk settling as the sound of her charred vocal chords echoed after his smoother ones. A single ear flicked at the nonchalant and grievously understated mentioning of remembering her during the coronation, as if she hadn't been the one doing the coronating and all.  Men; she almost had to roll her eyes.

"And I think I remember you standing on the outskirts without an invitation from the Queen of that time," she rebuked lightly. "Lucky you that said mare is no longer in such a position of unquestioned power, hmm?" Her eyes slid coyly to the colourful stallion across from her, glimmering with good-natured humour. From his own eyes, they traveled curiously to the musculature of his shoulders, to the way his mane stood on-end. She could see why Wishbone liked him so much; certainly, if she were 60 years younger and unmarried, she would be interested, too.

"But allow me to refresh your memory, sir. I am Scorch." And with that, she slid her eyes away again, scanning the wintery landscape for any signs of hot pools within which to laze. One does not come to a meaningless kingdom-visit without a hidden agenda - though this King had managed to figure it out right away.

Or something like that, anyway.

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

"Oh, I could tell. You wear your luck like you wear your fur..." She chuckled, deep in the breadth of her chest. "Or something like that, anyway." The scenery passed them with a homey ease, causing Scorch to remind herself that her kingdom and Wolfbane’s were contracted, not allied. Still, she wouldn’t mind being able to come here for strolls whenever she pleased - maybe on a day that she feels particularly reckless. With war on the horizon, that happened to be many days as of late.

Trying - and failing - to keep a smirk from spreading her charred lips, Scorch cocked an eyebrow and gave the Loessian leader a slow, side-long stare. By the end of his subtly enthusiastic spiel about her apprentice-gone-queen however, the smirk stood replaced by a casual grin, the swing of their powerful shoulders as they approached the billowing steam in perfect unison. She couldn’t blame Wolfbane for his partiality for Wishbone - after all, hadn’t Scorch crushed on one Amazonian Queen of her own…? Mom, your fucking, your married, STOP FANTASIZING ABOUT BRUNHILD.

Ahem. Thanks, Ea.

"I performed nothing except my unbiased duty for Nerine," she replied to his earnest thanks, purposefully leaving out exactly what Wishbone’s motivations had been during the time. "But you do your kingdom justice, Wolf; chivalrous."

Leaving that compliment hanging easily between them, Scorch glanced the hot pools he’d mentioned and struck forward slightly faster, eager to explore this newfound anomaly. She had her lagoon with Hestoni back in Nerine, but that fresh-water pond was completely unlike that which now stood before her. Her hairless body splashed rather inelegantly into the nearest pool, though as she settled, there could be something said about her regality. It would be a questionable statement, but, a statement nonetheless.

She threw her eyes to him at his following question, lowering her nose to test the temperature of the waters against the sensitive skin found there. "I hate to disappoint," she allowed after a moment’s pause, "But I came simply to get to know the man who my queen so simpers after." A roguish grin overtook Scorch’s expression, and as she finished her next sentence, she lifted her head abruptly, splattering the stallion in a shower of warm droplets. "If you can even imagine Wishbone as simpering, anyway."

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle