[private] hold me in this wild, wild world; invited allies/leaders/Jesper only

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

History repeated itself. From lulls to peace to wars. She couldn't say it wasn't exciting, because it was; but she felt bored. Senile perhaps, in her old age - she felt more concerned with why she and Toni couldn't seem to get pregnant than she felt worried about the well being of Beqanna. It scared her, when she really thought about it, but what was she to do? Her mind wandered, and more often than not someone else had to find the means to bring it back.

Today, the caller was Belgaer. The mare put on her diplomatic face to greet the stallion, remaining mostly silent as Wishbone greeted him and listened to all that was shared. The tyrannical evil spreading across the west had finally come to a head, spitting on the toes of the Allies as if they weren't easily squashed with a single footstep.

Slowly, Scorch came out of her reverie. Forced to think on the politics of the land, she found herself irrevocably riled up and angry; if there was one thing that would always matter to her, it was family. And Brennen - he was family. Lost in thought, she met with the new Khaleesi at the southern border, silently beginning the trek with naught but a nod hello. But there was a reason she'd chosen Wishbone as heir - and this, her composure, was it.

At the channel that most would swim through or fly over, Scorch extended a tangible twilight path, walking across it without hesitating. She'd entered this way before and had found it to be her preferred entrance; her mutilated skin simply could not handle being submerged in the dehydrating salt water. Glancing over her shoulder at Wishbone, she smiled to see the Khaleesi swimming - but just as she herself hadn't hesitated, nor had Wish.

They were kindred spirits, in their own way.

Upon entering the meeting ground, Scorch stood back. She and Brennen were no strangers and thus she felt obliged to allow others to approach him before herself. At the last, the twice-Queen stepped forward, forcefully pressing her nose into the base of his neck. "Brother," she murmured. The rest she said with her eyes, their gazes locked for a fraction of an eternity before she pulled herself back into the crowd, of lesser importance than she had ever been before.

They all said their pieces. Kagerus, Wishbone, Warrick, Solace. She knew each of them, by name if not by face. At the last, she stepped slightly forward, again meeting the gaze of the Ischian king.

"I am with our allies; we must attack, or else be ridiculed." Her eyes scanned the crowd briefly, considering them with an ancient, well-groomed sobriety. "We have built ties stronger than I've seen since the Blood Alliance, forty years ago. I will not see the strength of our unity squandered." Her lips turned down, ears pressing back. "I will see us go to war."

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

Tell me why Kag, the eloquent dream queen, ran her mouth, but the hellbent devil-rat spoke with the grace of a thousand dancers. My characters make no sense.