someone like you; volcan

[Volcan]

Volcan

Burn slow, burning up the back wall
Long roads, where the city meets the sky

Home? The concept was a simple one to Volcan: from the sands she was born, and in the sands she would remain forever after. The little girl could not be swayed on this matter; for now, that is. As of yet she knows naught of her lineage, of the Jungle blood which flows powerfully through her veins; but that’s not particularly true, is it? Daughter of Scorch, who was born of Katriel, the Desert Queen of old; and yet Scorch called Echion mother, and Echion was the Jungle Queen of old. So much history, so little opportunity for the girl to learn of it; but fate does not work according to opportunity. In the end, perhaps it will come down to who Volcan sees as her true parent; Vanquish, King of the Desert, or Scorch, Queen of the Jungle. Decisions; ones that have already been made in the past by her predecessors.

Ignorance is bliss they say, and the girl thrives in its embrace. The oasis shimmers about her with an emerald beauty, and it captivates the smoke girl. Palm leaves, blades of grass, flower stems; she could look upon them all endlessly. And on this day, she allows herself to be all too consumed by the beauty around her; when a tinkling whinny breaks through the gentle breeze, Volcan snaps out of her revere, instantly reaching for her telekinesis.

Brushing her conscience just over top of her power like an archer over the edge of her bow, Volcan approaches the caller, placing it as a female according to her scent. As she sets eyes on the curiously coloured filly, Volcan hesitates; the children whom she has met (and avoided) have been harmless, and blissfully annoying. The smoky-roan doesn’t know whether to just turn and leave the situation, or to herd the baby back to God-knows wherever her mother is.

“Humm,” She murmurs thoughtfully, slivered eyes narrowing even further in her scrutiny of the foreign-smelling child. “Hello,” Her veiled voice finally replies. “I am Volcan. This is my home.” My home, she thinks, toying with some grains of sand around the other girl’s hooves; usually the smoke girl remained just that, but today, she felt almost… volcanic.

This is not the end, this is just the world
Such a foolish thing, such an honest girl

lava texture © Mavrosh-Stock

to be honest it would be really cool if they had this child-battle (in mocks even or something so it can be legit) and then fall in love BECAUSE LOOK AT ME JUMPING TO PLOT CONCLUSIONS LMAO