WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

Surely her temper has not cooled – she is fire, she is volcanic, she is the essence of heat – but that is not to say that she has learned to conceal such scalding temperatures. She’s been pondering Shahrizai’s failure, mulling it over with a sledgehammer. She had always known that Shahrizai might very well have been one upped, as he has been, but she also wishes that she had prepared him better. Been a better mother. For if her son had captured the Deserts throne, then she would have had guaranteed loyalty. With the way things are (with Camrynn being deceitful and traitorous), she truly wishes for characteristics which do not belong to her, characteristics which would have granted Shahrizai a true chance to winning the throne.

But Scorch has never been a good mother in comparison to some. In comparison to others – the harlots of Beqanna who have managed to bed each stallion they come upon, the abandoners and the neglecters and the abusers – she is the essence of a mother. If only her children would come to realize that.

He comes to her while her head is tangled amongst the grasses, her razor teeth shearing them. She finds that ruling the Jungle gives her quite an appetite, and quite a lack of time to satisfy it. His timing is lucky, as she’s nearly full. When his scent comes close enough that she knows he intends on – finally – confronting her, Scorch swallows and raises herself to her full sixteen hands, ears facing backwards, eyes hard.

Her cold expression – or should I say hot – nearly breaks when she sees her youngest son’s cheerful grin, the one she’d grown up encouraging whence she had the chance. Shahrizai’s childhood seems so long ago, she thinks, all scrunched together, as quick as a blink. Her innards twist as her ache to reciprocate his touch grows, but in this instance, she must be like Echion. Hard, cruel, demanding. Everything she’d promised never to be.

”Shahrizai. You’re late.”

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

His grin falters, twitches into oblivion. It pains her to watch, to retain her stony composure, to replicate Echion in every single way (though Scorch mimics her for only an hour, while Echion had treated Scorch like this for her whole life). Yet just as Scorch had held her mother’s unloving gaze through each of their cold-hearted conversations, Shahrizai holds hers. Despite his drifting, despite his wandering, he is truly Scorch’s blood.

Though she reciprocates his gaze, her large ears catch the quiet shuffling of his hooves. Good, she thinks. Let him stew in his own anxieties, if only for a moment. He says his first piece – his first lie, actually – but instead of replying, Scorch continues watching him silently. A moment later, he reveals his falsehood, grinning like the foolish child she had watched grow up. Like the foolish child she loves.

”Alas, that is a claim some of your other siblings cannot make.” Suddenly the hardness slips off of her, a grin which she has suppressed through their entire encounter finally surfacing. ”Thank you for returning,” She says gruffly, obviously struggling to show her affection. Instead of trying to continue with words which slip around her mouth like water, the fire-woman steps forward and nudges her blue son’s jaw.

Oh, how she has improved since those first fateful twins. Let us hope that these improvements will carry over to the next generation – to that hidden twins, that is. Though her belly bulges wide, it is yet unremarkable. Hestoni and Scorch are large equines, after all. Her girth is not yet worrisome – but oh, it shall be, and quite soon.

”Where have you been visiting?”

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

As Shahrizai leans into the most unlikely of mothers, Scorch allows the embrace to continue until he pulls back. However aggressive or cold-shouldered she could be, Scorch has always been a feeler. That is, physical closeness has always been something she enjoys. At hers and Echion’s final meeting, Scorch had forced a hug upon the woman. Thinking of that one brief moment of true daughterhood helps the fire-woman hold the embrace. If she is anything, she is unwilling to be Echion as a mother, but strives to be Echion in every other way.

When they separate, she must wait a moment for an answer, but when it comes, she knows it to be true. Shahrizai is her son, after all. She knows his signs.

“Librette is an honourable woman,” She says bluntly, but not unkindly. “We’ve met in the Field and the Valley while I was there.” A frown slowly squirms on to her forehead, and for a moment, silence falls. Her expression nearly screams contemplation, for what she might say next could alter things greatly. Rolling her shoulders, Scorch throws caution to the wind, figuring that it could do no harm.

Not now. Not after what happened.

“You know, Noori, your older sister, lives in the Valley.” Dragon eyes visibly darken at the mention of her eldest-daughter, and her lips turn downwards. “You could… Meet her, if you’d like. Meet her children.” Teeth grinding, Scorch scrutinizes her son for a moment longer, detesting the hesitation she feels, but unable to do a thing about it. “And you could tell her what’s been happening in the family. She and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms, but she might not be against meeting you.”

Sighing on to one leg – for her weight is great – Scorch watches her son lazily, but affectionately. Her flames flicker more slowly, for in the presence of her son, relaxation comes easily. Shahrizai has always had this effect on her, for which she is grateful. You were so easy to raise, she thinks. Thank you for that.

All of the sudden, Shahz notices her swollen abdomen. “I figured you’d see it for yourself,” She chuckles with a quirked brow. “They’ll be coming along soon, you’re welcome to meeting them. As for Ea… Well, she’s nothing like you or your brother. Completely stoic. Precocious. You should find her, teach her how to be social and make friends.”  She rolls her eyes with another chuckle. “Y’know, if you want to.” Ah, Scorch, Scorch, Scorch…

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle