WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT
It made sense that the leopard mare only spotted one figure approaching and not two.
The journey from Nerine to the field was a long one, not that Scorch minded the exercise - but by the look of the winter clouds forming in the east, she hadn't such time as would be demanded of her if she walked to the common land. And so, feeling her powers amplified in the mixing of light and darkness beneath the pregnant clouds and thin winter sunlight, Scorch dissolved into a fleeting mixture of darkness and light. In that insubstantial form, the mare frisked through the grasses at such a pace that she found herself in the field long before the first touch of snow.
Watching from her twilight-form (an eerie feeling, considering that she hadn't any eyes), Scorch surveyed the lay of the land. When no one of interest showed up, she nearly snapped back home to her homely cliffs; but at the last moment, an intricately coloured female meanders into the scene.
Her form slunk through the tall grass towards the woman just as another figure did, too, and at first glance, she recognized him immediately. Her twilight-mist throbbed with extra light at the thought of reuniting with her long-term family friend (I'm talking possibly a hundred years here), but she managed to maintain her composure until her form stood next to Brennen, before the girl.
Watching her materialize was similar to watching an invisible horse gradually shift back into reality, though with more swirls of light and dark building up from her hooves to her poll. As such, she stood: bare-skinned and mutilated, with broad shoulders and a hammer head, eyes a molten red-yellow and as intense as they ever had been before.
"And I am Scorch, of Nerine." She studied the woman only a moment more before turning her gaze to Brennen, a smile curling her split lips in an all too familiar kind of way. "It's good to see you again, Brennen. I heard you took up residence in Ischia." She dipped her head, a low chuckle rolling from her throat. She's sure that he'd heard of her rebirth into this land... But this was their first time reuniting since her death many decades ago. "May the best warrior-gone-diplomat win, for old times sake."
Turning once more to the figure strewn across the field's floor, Scorch smiled again, the expression not really friendly, but more dutiful. "Have you come far, to be so exhausted? There are many here who come from elsewhere."
Scorch
Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle