[private] and before her fury; iso

[Isotope]

fire in my lungs, can't bite the devil on my tongue. (i don't need to be loved by you.) The girl loathed solitude. The burning shapes of the others beckoned her forward and she was helpless as they fled from her.  She often hissed as the did so - chasing the cowards who fled from her.  It had become a game, of sorts.  But they didn’t flee when she could feel the burning sunlight across her back.  So she lingered in Pangea - the land that she was bound to by blood and legacy. And oh, how she had wept and screamed when in some living nightmare that land had been stripped away.  When trees grew and shadows curled and mist blocked out the sun.  She refused to join the other as the darkness enfolded her, stripping away the sanctuary she had always had to return to. And when the sun blazed fierce again, she fell to her knees in thanks. But it wasn’t enough It was never enough. Because soon the solitude returned and the loneliness burned in her belly.  Her family had been strangely absent, but she had not found cause to panic yet.  So when she sees the burning figure approaching, she is curious to see when it does not turn away.  More curious still when it issues a greeting.  It’s an unfamiliar voice, and the scent is not that of her family.  ”Technically,” the dragon-girl said, swinging her head towards the sound of the other - towards the glowing red figure that indicated her warm flesh. ”I’ve never seen anyone.”  The horns sprouting from her eye sockets have grown and twisted - glowing the same green as her mother’s eyes.  She inclines her horned head then, studying the shape of this stranger - committing her scent to memory. It is not often that she is approached, and she angles herself so that the shadows do not touch her hide and reveal her secrets so soon. i s o t o p e .

@[rosebay]