WELL, JESUS CHRIST, I'M NOT SCARED TO DIE
Perhaps this was best for our silver lioness, forgetting all her past downfalls and starting anew. The problem with that is she's lived long enough, loud enough that others can't let her do that - there will always be an enemy or a wolf in sheep's clothing. Without her wit or her memory, despite her immortality and magic, she could fall prey to an attack from another.
Death used to be one of her favorite dreams, now it means nothing. There is no recollection of the ones she's murdered, no children abandoned, no heartache. Every mistake she has made, both as a leader, mentor and mother - all is washed away. How utterly helpless she must feel, to be so old and to know there is a past but unable to recall it. She feels like a goldfish, one flicker of hope gone with the next gulp.
She is an ocean.
She is salt in her enemies wounds. She is the sand that you dig your toes in to keep balance in the tide. She is the red tide when she is angry. She is the small, frothy soft waves when she is happy. She is the mother, the nurturer of creatures - she harbors a heart as big as as a beluga and a bite comparable to a great white. She is all of these things without knowing.
She needs someone else's wave to guide her back to her own shore.
Although only seconds have passed since the first mare approached it felt like days trying to speak out, finally the Andalusian manages, "I'm alive. I'm ok." What a simpleton! She has always been one of words even if most were sarcastically spoken. When the bald mare approaches something changes within the mare, slowly her body's characteristics change. Her long, strong head starts becoming shorter with a more dainty snout, whiskers longer, teeth sharper; hooves become padded paws and claws slowly emerge. You know where this finishes, a lioness - silver in color with amber eyes. Scorch does something strange to Prague, even without her knowing. "Scorch, I remember you. Nothing, what's up yours - an anaconda?" she doesn't say it with with or charm, it's very dry and matter of fact. She is almost taken back by Scorch's abruptness and that's very out of character.
"I think I'm very confused which is also, very confusing," she says staring at Scorch and the mare who's wings illuminate, "Is this home? What happened."
I'M A LITTLE BIT SCARED OF WHAT COMES AFTER